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LIFE AND LIBERTY 



AMERICA: 



OR, 



SKETCHES OF A TOUR IN THE UNITED STATES AND 
CANADA IN 1857-8. 



CHAELES mCKAY, LL.D., F.S.A. 







toitl)l3:enpUu0tration0. 



f%-IBR 






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i^EW YORK: 

HARPER &^ ROT HERS, PUBLISHERS, 



FRANKLIN SQUAKE. 

185 9. 



PREFACE. 



In pursuance of a long-cherished desire, the author of the 
following pages left London in October, 1857, for a tour in 
the United States and Canada. He ti-aversed the Union from 
Boston to New Orleans, by St. Louis and the Mississippi, and 
returned to New York by land through the Slave States. He 
afterward visited Canada, and published from time to time in 
the Illustrated London News a few of the results of his ob- 
servations, under the title of "Transatlantic Sketches." 
These sketches, after having received careful revision, have 
been included in the present work, and form about one third 
of its bulk. The remaining portions are now published for 
the first time, and include not only the chapters on the great 
social and political questions which, more than any mere rec- 
ords of travel, are of interest to the lovers of human liberty 
and progress, but nearly the whole of the Canadian tour. It 
is not to be expected that in a residence of less than a twelve- 
month in America the author can have acquired a thorough 
acquaintance with the institutions of the country, or with the 
operations of social causes w^hich the Americans themselves 
do not always comprehend. He makes no pretense at being 
oracular, but has contented himself with describing "Life" 
as he saw it, and "Liberty" as he studied it, to the extent 
of his opportunities, both in the North and in the South. He 
went to America neither to carp, to sneer, nor to caricature, 
but with an honest love of liberty, and a sincere desire to judge 
for himself, and to tell the truth, as to the results of the great 
experiment in self-government which the Anglo-Saxon and 
Anglo-Celtic races are making in America, under the most 



VI PREFACE. 

flxvorable circumstances, and with nothing, not springing from 
themselves, to impede or fetter their progress. He rerurned 
from America with a greater respect for the people than when 
he first set foot upon the soil. And if, with his European no- 
tions that a man's color makes no difterence in his natural 
rights, he has come to the same conclusion as previous travel- 
ers, that " Liberty" in the New World is not yet exactly what 
the founders of the Union intended it to be, he trusts that he 
has expressed his opinions without bitterness, and that, while 
he can admire the political virtues of the republic, he is not 
obliged to shut his eyes to its defects or its vices. It is on 
American soil that the highest destinies of civilization will be 
wrought out to their conclusions, and the record of what is 
there doing, however often the story may be told, will be al- 
ways interesting and novel. Progress crawls in Europe, but 
gallops in America. The record of European travel may be 
fresh ten or twenty years after it is written, but that of Amer- 
ica becomes obsolete in four or five. It took our England 
nearly a thousand years, from the days of the Heptarchy to 
those of William III., to become of as much account in the 
world as the United States have become in the lifetime of old 
men who still linger among us. Those who bear this foct in 
mind will not concur in the opinion that books of American 
travel are likely to lose their interest, even amid the turmoil 
of European wars, and the complications created by the self- 
ish ambition of rulers whose pretensions and titles are ahkc 
anachronisms in the nineteenth century. 
London, May, 1859. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. THE VOYAGE OUT 9 

II. NEW YORK 15 

in. BROADWAY BY KIGIIT 22 

IV. HOTEL LIFE .' 29 

V. AMERICAN FIREMEN 34 

VI. FROM NEW YORK TO BOSTON 39 

VII. TO THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 47 

VIII. NIAGARA... 52 

IX. NEWPORT AND RHODE ISLAND 64 

X. PHILADELPHIA 71 

XI. WASHINGTON 77 

XII. INTERVIEW OF INDIANS WITH THEIR "GREAT FATHER".. 87 

XIII. AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG 100 

XIVo THE IRISH IN AMERICA 112 

XV. FROM WASHINGTON TO CINCINNATI 117 

XVI. THE QUEEN CITY OF THE WEST 125 

XVII. ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI 138 

XVIII. THE MORMONS 147 

XIX. FROM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS 151 

XX. "the CRESCENT CITY" 162 

XXI. FROM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA 178 

XXII. SOUTH CAROLINA 187 

XXIII. SOUTH CAROLINA — continued 192 

XXIV. A RICE PLANTATION 199 

XXV. SAVANNAH AND THE SEA ISLANDS 208 

XXVI. FROM SOUTH CAROLINA TO VIRGINIA 215 

XXVII. FROM RICHMOND TO WASHINGTON 224 

XXVIII. THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY 231 

XXIX. PRO-SLAVERY PHILOSOPHY 247 

XXX. DECLINE OF THE SPANISH RACE IN AMERICA 258 

XXXI. BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND 270 

XXXII. FROM BALTIMORE TO NEW YORK 279 

XXXIII. AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE 287 

XXXIV. PARTIES AND PARTY TYRxVNNY 300 

XXXV. ALBANY 309 

XXXVL THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES 314 



vm 



CONTENTS. 



CANADA. 

CHAP. PAOE 

XXXVII. FROM ALBANY TO MONTREAL 326 

XXXVIII. TO THE TOP OF BEL CEIL 337 

XXXIX. THE ST. LAWRENCE 345 

XL. QUEBEC 355 

XLI. TORONTO 370 

XLII. HAMILTON, LONDON, AND OTTAWA 379 

XLIIL SHOOTING THE RAPIDS 387 

XHV. EMIGRATION 396 

XLV. HOME AGAIN 407 



LIFE AND LIBERTY 

IN 

AMERICA. 

CPIAPTER I. 

THE VOYAGE OUT. 

At ten o'clock on the morning of Saturday, the 3d of Octo- 
ber, 1857, the fine steam-sliip Asia, Captain Lott, bearing the 
mails and about 150 passengers, left Liverpool for New York. 
The weather was the reverse of cheering. The rain fell, the 
wind blew, the Mersey showed its white teeth, and every thing 
betokened a rough voyage, and a vigorous demand for the 
steward's basin. The passengers were mostly Americans. 
Planters, cotton-brokers, and bankers from the South ; mer- 
chants and manufacturers from the New England States ; 
Americans from Virginia, South Carolina, and Alabama, who 
vised the word " Yankee" as a term, if not of contempt, of de- 
preciation, as we sometimes use it in England ; and Americans 
from Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Vermont, who gloried 
in the appellation as the highest compliment that could be be- 
stowed upon them ; courtly gentlemen who would have graced 
any society in the world, and rough tykes and horse-dealers 
from the Far West, with about forty ladies and children, and 
five Englishmen, three of whom crossed the Atlantic for the 
first time, formed our company. It was not until the second 
day, when we were steaming along the southern shores of Ire- 
land, that we began to grow social, to learn each other's names, 
to form ourselves into little cliques, coteries, and gossiping par- 
ties, and to receive and communicate information upon the 
pleasui'es and the perils of the Atlantic, upon the state of Eu- 
' A2 



10 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

rope and of America, upon the probable effects of the great In- 
dian mutiny on the cotton trade of Charleston, Mobile, and 
New Orleans, upon the great commercial crash and panic at 
New York, upon the feelings of Englishmen toward Ameri- 
cans and of Americans toward Englishmen, or, in one phrase, 
" upon things in general." 

The weather suddenly became mild and genial, and on Sun- 
day morning, as we skirted the coast of AVaterford and Cork, 
there was scarcely more motion in the sea or in our ship than 
if we had been steaming from London to Greenwich, or thrid- 
ding our way amid the beautiful lochs of the Caledonian Ca- 
nal. Tlie breakfast, luncheon, diimer, tea, and supper tables 
were regularly cl•o^^•dcd ; there was not a single absentee from 
the five too frequent and too copiovis meals provided for us by 
our bountiful and urbane chief steward. The monotony of a 
long sea voyage is such that people eat for pastime. The 
sound of the bell for luncheon is an event ; and dinner is a 
consummation of good things, as Avell as a consumption of 
them, to which all who are not smitten by sea-sickness look 
forward as the very cro■^^^l and climax of the day, which the 
gourmand and the gourmet alike contemplate with pleasurable 
anticipations, and Avhich nothing can impair but a stiff breeze. 
And such a breeze sprung up on the second day. Experienced 
travelers who had crossed the Atlantic scores of times — who 
sjioke jauntily of our noble ship as a ferry-boat, and of the 
mighty Atlantic as " tlie Ferry," no larger, in their magnilo- 
quence, than that from Liverpool to Birkenhead — bade us 
"look out for squalls," and for the swell and roll of the ocean, 
as soon as we should pass Cape Clear and the Fassnett Light- 
house. The}^ proved themselves true prophets. "We had not 
left the rugged shores of the county of Keriy half an hour be- 
hind us before we made a most unpleasant acquaintanceship 
with the heaving billows of the Atlantic, and felt the Asia 
pitching in a hea^y sea, with her bowsprit one moment lom- 
ning atilt at tlie clouds, and the next sinking as if it would 
poke a hole through the bottom of the ocean. In a few min- 
utes our decks were cleared of all tlie fairer portion of the pas- 
sengers ; the crinolines disappeared ; and for seven lono- and 



THE VOYAGE OUT. 11 

weary days the ruder and stronger half of creation were left in 
undisturbed but melancholy possession of the decks and the 
dining-tables. Nor did the greater number of the gentlemen 
fare, for a day or two, much better than the ladies. On the 
wings of the gale there rode a fiend — the fiercest, most unre- 
lenting demon ever imagined, invented, or depicted — the arch- 
fiend Sea-sickness, in whose unwelcome presence life, nature, 
and humanity lose their charm, " the sun's eye hath a sickly 
glare," and death itself seems among the most trivial of the 
afiiictions that can befall us. One of our English friends from 
Manchester, who was very sick and utterly miserable, created 
some amusement among those less miserable than himself. 
There was but one place on deck which afforded shelter from 
the beating rain, and the spray that washed over us in plente- 
ous cataracts. This place was the general resort not only of 
the smokers, but of all those sufficiently convalescent to loathe 
and abhor the confined air of their state-rooms. The name 
originally given to this resort was the Gridiron ; but the more 
significant application of the Sjnt was applied to it by a "Brit- 
isher" whom modesty forbids me to name, who detested tobac- 
co and the streams of saliva which, whether "chawed" or 
smoked, it incited some portion of the Yankee passengers, and 
more especially a long, lean, leathery, unhealthy boy from 
Philadelphia, to discharge upon the floor. Seated in the 
" Spit" was our Manchester friend, as comfortless and as hope- 
less as man could look. "We had been five days out, and it 
was impossible to Avalk the deck for the heavy seas and blind- 
ing spray that at every pitch or roll of the vessel came spout- 
ing over us. To eat was perilous, to drink was to invite sick- 
ness, to read was impossible, to talk was but vanity and vex- 
ation of spirit ; and the sole resource was to woo the slumber 
which would not come, or to form deep though unspoken vows 
never again to cross the ocean in the expectation of deriving 
either pleasure or comfort from the trip. The vessel rolled 
heavily ; and a " sea," bursting over the bulwarks, deluged the 
" Spit" and all within it till we stood six inches deep in water. 
" I'll be hanged," said the man of Manchester, " if I'll stand 
this any longer ! Steward, call a cab !" We all smiled, and 



12 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

doubtless our smiles were ghastly enough, at the earnest jocos- 
ity of our friend's misery. It had, lioAvever, a good effect 

homocopathioally ; it made us forget our sea-sickness for the 
better part of tive minutes. 

On the eighth night it blew a gale of wind, an indubitable 
storm, about which there could be no mistake. Our averao-e 
rate of speed against the strong head wind since leaving Liver- 
pool liad been upward of eight knots an hour ; but on that fear- 
ful night we did not exceed two and a half The vessel croan- 
ed and creaked through all her timbers. The dull, heavy 
" thuds" or tlumips of the roaring, raging seas sta<'-o-ered the 
Asia through the whole of her sturdy framework. It seemed 
at times as if, endowed with reason, she had made up her mind 
to resist the cruel aggression of the billows, and had stopped in 
mid career to deliberate in what manner she should, witli the 
most power and dignity, show lior sense of the insult ; and 
then, as if learning wisdom in adversity, she resolved to hold 
on her course and show herself superior to the buffetings of 
fortune. To me, as to others, every minute of that niglit ap- 
peared to be as long as a day, and every liour was an ao;e of 
suffering. To sleep in such a conllict of the elements was im- 
possible. Even to remain in the berth, without being pitched 
head Ibremost out of it on to the cabin floor, and running the 
risk of broken limbs, was a matter of the utmost difficult>% and 
only to be accomplished by main strength and fruitful ingenui- 
ty of invention, and of adaptation to the unusual circum- 
stances. Feet and hands were alike in requisition ; and a hai-d 
grip of the sides of the berth was scarcely sufficient for securi- 
ty, unless aided by the knees and tlic elbows, and by a constant 
agony of Avatchfiilness, lest a sudden sea should take the vessel 
miawares, and spill the hapless traveler like a potato out of a 
sack. And amid the riot of tlie winds and waves there was 

ever and anon a sound more fearful and distressing to hear 

the moan of a sick lady, and the loud and querulous cry of a 
young child that refused to be comforted. For twelve unhap- 
py and most doleful hours we plowed our way through the 
storm, prapng for the daylight and the calm. At the lii-st 
blink of morning every one capable of the exertion was cb-essed 



THE VOYAGE OUT. 13 

and upon deck, exchanging condolences with his fcllow-trav- 
clers on the miseries of the night, or inquiring of the ofticers on 
watch what hopes there were of the moderating of the gale. 

For six-and-twenty hours the storm raged, and for twelve 
hours after its cessation the ocean, with its long uneasy swell, 
bore traces on its white-crested waves of the perturbation that 
had been caused in it. On the tenth and eleventh days the sea 
was calm enough to admit of sports upon the lower deck, and 
several matches were made at shuftle-ljoard, the marine substi- 
tute for the game of skittles. It was played Avith the greatest 
spirit, sometimes Ohio being matched against Kentucky, some- 
times Charleston against New York, and frequently England 
against America. And, while this was the amusement on 
deck, cards, backgammon, and chess afforded relaxation to 
those who took no pleasure in robustcr sport. Among other 
pastimes, a kind of masquerade was got up by the sailors, two 
of whom made a very respectable elephant between them, and 
one a very superior shaggy bear. On the back of the elephant 
rode the boatswain. The first part of the fun was that the el- 
ephant should continually throw him ; and the second part 
was that he shoidd continually remount— per fas aid nej'as ; 
all of which was effected according to the programme, and to 
the groat amusement of the passengers, and especially of one 
little boy, eight years old, who laughed so immoderately as to 
suggest a fear that his mirth would end in convulsions. The 
bear also contributed his due share to the frolic; and the 
broad farce created as much hilarity among our hundred and 
fifty travelers as ever was excited on the London boards by 
Buckstone or Ilarley in the present day, or by Liston and 
John Reeve in the days of old. At the conclusion of the per- 
formances two of the passengers volunteered to go round with 
the hat, and nearly five pounds were the result of their solic- 
itations. But the chief amusements of the younger and " fast- 
er" voyagers — smoking always excepted — were bets and lot- 
teries. How many knots we should run in the next twenty- 
four hours ; what latitude and longitude we should be in when 
our excellent captain made his noon-day observation ; with 
what letter of the alphabet would commence the name of the 



14 LIFE AND LIBEKTY IN AMERICA. 

l)ilot whom he should take on board on approachin"- New York • 
and how many miles, or scores of miles, we should be from 
shore when the pilot-boat first made its appearance, were but 
a few of the subjects of speculation on which inp;cnuity was dis- 
played to kill time and to have something to think of. Ten to 
one was offered that on a certain day we should run 258 miles 
or upward. We ran 257 by the captain's calculation ; and an 
amount of money changed hands on this question which was 
variously estimated in the ship at from £150 to £200. 

It soon became evident that the adverse winds and rough 
weather ^^'ould make our passage a longer one than the average, 
and that we should not reach New York under fourteen days. 
We passed over 1500 miles of ocean without having seen a 
sad but our own, affording no opportunity for the old maritime 
joke always palmed oil' upon landsmen, " sometimes we ship a 
sea, and sometimes Ave see a ship." After the twelfth day 
sailing-vessels and steam-ships were frequently met with, and 
Ave had abundant proofs that we were on the great highway 
of the nations, and in the most crowded part of the "Ferry." 

On Friday, the IGtli, at eight o'clock in the morning, a pi- 
lot, who had been on the look-out for us for four days, came 
on board, and informed us that we were 180 miles from land. 
He brought, at the same time, the news, distressing to very 
many of our company, that the connnercial panic in New York 
had increased in intensity ; that nearly, if not 4ill the banks had 
suspended payment ; and that there never had been a finan- 
cial crisis of such seventy in the whole liistory of the United 
States. At ten o'clock that night Ave Avere off Sandy Hook. 
The navigation being intricate, our entrance into the harbor 
Avas deferred until daylight ; and at seven in the morning of 
Saturday, the 17th, having nearly completed our fourteenth 
day, Ave steamed for eighteen miles into the beautiful bay at 
the end of Avhich stands New York, the Queen of the Western 
■\^'ovld, AA'ith New Jersey on the one side and Brookljii on the 
other. The three form but one city in fact, though differin<y 
in name, like London and Westminster, and occupy a situa- 
tion Avorthy in every respect of a metropolis that has no com- 
mercial rival or superior in the Avorld — except London. 



NEW YORK. 



15 



CHAPTER II. 

NEW YORK. 

New York, Nov. 25th, 1857. 
In one of his famous letters to the Pennsylvanians the late 
Rev. Sydney Smith accused the whole American people of 
pride, conceit, and presumption. Smarting under a sense of 
injuries inflicted upon him, not by the State or city of New 
York, which had not the remotest connection with his griev- 
ances, real or supposed, he hurled this sweeping denunciation 
a-rainst all the states— declaring, among other odd things, in 
his own odd way, "that this new and vain people could never 
for-ivc England because Broadway was inferior to Bond 
Strcet." It is fourteen years since the Rev. Sydney Smith 
thus disburdened his mind, prompted to do so by the fact, dis- 
agreeable to him, that his pockets had been previously dis- 
burdened by his own desire of making more than five per 
cent, by the transatlantic investment of his money. The 
lapse of years has made a great ditlerence in the aspect of 
Broadway, as well as in that of New York generally. But, 
whatever may have been the appearance of this great artery 
of New York in that remote period of its history— a period 
Ayhen, as travelers told us, pigs prowled about the principal 
thoroughfares, and lay down at night on the marble door-steps 
of mai^)le palaces in snug and affectionate familiarity with 
Irish immigrants— Sydney Smith's assertion of the inferiority 
of Bi-oadway to liond Street is ludicrously untrue at the pres- 
ent time. Bond Street ! quotha? Bond Street is no more to 
be compared to Broadway for beauty, extent, life, bustle, and 
wealth, than a dingy old farthing of the reign of George III. 
to a bright new sovereign of the days of Queen Victoria. 
There is"no street in London that can be declared superior, 
or even equal, all things considered, to Broadway. It is a 
street sui generis, combining in itself the characteristics of the 



10 LIFE AND LIBEETY IN AMEEICA. 

Boulevard des Italiens at Paris, and of Cheapside or Fleet 
Street in London, with here and there a dash of Whitechapel 
or the Minories, and here and there a dash of Liverpool and 
Dublin. It is longer, more crowded, and fuller of fine build- 
ings than the Boulevard des Italiens; it is as bustling as 
Cheapside ; and, more than aU, it has a sky above it as bright 
as the sky of Venice. Its aspect is thoroughly Parisian 
Were it not for the old femiliar names of Smith, Jones, and 
Bro^yn over the doors of the stores and warehouses, and the 
English placards and advertisements that every where meet 
the eye, the stranger might fancy himself under tlie maximized 
government and iron grip of Napoleon III., instead of beino- 
under that of the minimized and mild government of an 
American republic— a government so infinitesimally li^ht in 
Its weight, and carried on by persons so little known" that 
strangers in this, the "Empire State," as it is called, and even 
the citizens themselves, are scarcely more cognizant of the 
name of the governor than a Londoner is of the name of the 
high sheriff of Flintshire or of the lord lieutenant of Merio- 
neth. 

England has given names to the people in Broadway, but 
France and Continental Europe seem to have given them their 
manners. FlagstafFs on the roof of every third or fourth 
house, banners flaunting from the windows, a constant rat-tat- 
too of drums as detachments of the militia regiments (and very 
fine regiments they are, and very splendidly accoutred) pass 
to and fro, all add to the illusion; and it is only the well- 
known vernacular of the city of St. Paul's, spiced occasion- 
ally with the still more piquant vernacular of the city of St 
Patrick's, that bring the cheated fancy back to the reality and 
prove to the Englishman that he is among his own people 

Were there any thing like uniformity in the desi-n of its 
long hues of buildings, Broadway would be one of the three 
or four most magnificent streets in the worid. Even with- 
out any general design— for each man builds exactly as he 
pleases-the street, in its details, surpasses any single street 
that England or the British Isles can show. From the Bat- 
tery facing the sea, where Broadway has a very ignoble com- 



NEW YORK. 17 

mencement, to Trinity Church, there is nothing remarkable 
about it ; but from Trinity Church, of brown stone, with its 
elegant spire, to Grace Church, built entirely of Avhite marble, 
a distance in a straight line of nearly three miles, and thence 
on to Union Square, and the statue of Washington, Broadway 
offers one grand succession of commercial palaces. Formerly 

and perhaps when Sydney Smith wrote — the houses were 

for the most part of brick gayly colored, with here and there 
a house of brown stone or granite. But the brick is in grad- 
ual process of extirpation ; and white marble — pure, glitter- 
ing, brilliant, without speck or flaw— is rapidly taking its 
place. The St. Nicholas Hotel, one of the most sumptuous 
buildings in New York, is a palace of white marble, with up- 
ward of one hundred windows fronting Broadway. To the 
right, and to the left, and in front, are other palaces of the 
same material, pure as Parian— larger than the largest Avare- 
house in St. Paul's Church-yard, and devoted to the same or 
similar purposes ; some for the wholesale, but the great ma- 
jority for the retail trade. " Dry-goods" or linen-drapers' 
stores compete with each other in the use of this costly stone ; 
and such has been, and is, the rage for it, that in a few years 
hence a house of any other material than marble, granite, or 
iron will be the exception to the rule in Broadway, and in the 
main thoroughfares leading from it to the east and the west. 
Most of these buildings, taken separately, are fine specimens 
of architecture, but the general effect is not striking, from the 
total absence of plan and method, already alluded to, and 
which seems to be inevitable in a country where every man is 
a portion of the government and of the sovereignty, and con- 
siders himself bound to consult nobody's taste but his own. 
But this peculiarity is not confined to America, or St. Paul's 
Church-yard would not be what it is, and the noble propor- 
tions of the Cathedral would not be marred as they are by the 
too close proximity of the hideous warehouses that have been 
gradually piled up around it — monuments alike of commercial 
pride and bad taste. Brown stone edifices rank next in size 
and number to the marble palaces ; and a few of cast iron, 
with elegant Corinthian pillars, add to the variety of architec- 



18 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

tiire in the Broadway. Conspicuous among the edifices that 
give its most imposing character to this busy and beautiful 
street are Stewart's dry-goods store, the iron palace of Messrs. 
Ilaughwout and Co., such hotels as the St. Nicholas, the Met- 
ropolitan, the Lafarge House, the St. Denis, the Clarendon, 
the New York, and the Astor House. The last-mentioned 
was some years ago the boast and pride of New York, and the 
wonder of strangers ; but the city has outgrown its southern 
limits, and stretched itself far away into the north and north- 
west, and new hotels like the St. Nicholas and the INIetropol- 
itan have dwarfed the Astor House in size and eclipsed it in 
splendor. The St. Nicholas makes up from 500 to 700 beds, 
and the Metropolitan nearly as many. Both of these, as well 
as the others mentioned, rejn'esent the magnificent scale on 
Avhich the New Yorkers do business, as well as the more than 
Parisian publicity with -which fomilics cat and drink and pass 
the day. 

Enough for the present on the street architecture of Broad- 
way. A few words on its physical and moral aspects are 
necessaiy to complete the pictui'e. On each side of the street 
are rows of American elm, with here and there a willow or a 
mountain ash. At this date all the trees are leafless, except 
the willows, which still droop in green beauty, though some- 
what shriveled in their leaves by the frosts of the last three 
nights. The roadway is excellently paved Avith granite, and 
the foot pavements are equally good. But let not the travel- 
er be deceived into the idea that the part is a specimen of the 
whole. Broadway monopolizes nearly all the good pavement 
as well as cleanness of New York ; and the streets that branch 
off' from it on each side are uneven, dirty, and full of deep 
holes and ruts, through which carriage-driAing is far fi'om be- 
ing agreeable. If there be any exception, it is in the Fifth 
Avenue — the Tyburn ia or Belgravia of New York — Avhere 
the richest people live in marble and stone palaces, not quite, 
so large as the business palaces of Broadway, but sufficiently 
luxurious and imposing. The street swarms with omnibuses, 
somewhat smaller and more inconvenient than the omnibuses 
of London. Nearly the whole of them are painted white. 



NEW YORK. 19 

No one rides outside, for the satisfactory reason that there are 
no seats. They have no conductors. The passenger, on en- 
tering, is expected to pay his fare to tlie driver through a hole 
in tlie roof; and, if he neglect to do so, the driver begins to 
drum with his fist on tlie top, to attract attention, and forth- 
with pokes his hand through the aforesaid hole for the money, 
Avith an objuration against the passenger more emphatic than 
polite, and often in the choicest brogue of the county of Cork. 
AVhen the passenger wants to descend he pulls a cord, the 
vehicle stops, and he opens the door for himself, and goes 
about his business. The New Yorkers consider themselves, 
and are considered by others, to be a fast people ; but they 
have no Hansom, and, indeed, no cabs of any description. 
They have not yet advanced beyond the lumbering old hack- 
ney-coach with two horses, which disappeared from the streets 
of London more than five-and-twenty years ago. A few cabs, 
it appeal's, were recently introduced, but Cabbie, being in a 
free country, where municipalities make good laws, but are not 
strong enough to enforce them, insisted upon fixing the fares 
himself, at something like a dollar a mile. As might have 
been predicted, the scheme did not work, and Cabbie, instead 
of lowering his price, disappeared altogether, and betook him- 
self to other schemes and projects for making an easy living, 
or emigrated to the Far West. The hackney-coaches with 
tAvo horses are conducted upon such a system of extortion 
that one job per diem may be considered tolerably good pay. 
Let not the stranger who comes to New York for the first 
time imagine that there is any law for him if he have a dis- 
pute with the hack-driver. The New York Jehu, who is gen- 
erally an L'ishman, charges what he pleases, and I, and doubt- 
less many others, before and since, had to pay two dollars 
(eight shillings and fourpence) for a drive of less than two 
miles, and there was no redress for the grievance, nor any 
thing but submission. Had a bargain been made beforehand, 
one dollar would doubtless have been accepted ; but a hack- 
ney-coach is, at the best of times, and in all circumstances, 
such an expensive and litigious luxury in New York that few 
people, unless newly-arrived strangers, think of using one. 



20 LIFE A^l) LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

The great avenue? that run parallel AA-ith Broadway are pro- 
vided with linos of rail, on "which numbers of very excellent 
cars, each capable of accommodating, with perfect ease and 
comfort, from twenty to thirty passengers, ai'e drawn by horses 
— an arrangement which might be introduced into some of 
the main thoroughfares of Loudon Avith much advantage. 

Brt-xulway is the fashionable promenade — the Eegent Sti'eet 
and Hyde Park, as well as the Cheapside and Fleet Street of 
New York. Let u? take a look at the people. A few car- 
riages — several of them Avith coronets upon the panels, though 
on Avhat principle no one can tell — mingle among the white 
omnibuses ; and here the negi'o coachmen come into competi- 
tion with the Irish. The ladies of New York who go shop- 
]nng in Broadway are evidently fond of dress. Let them not 
be blamed : for what lady is not ? Some of the journals have 
been ungtUlant enough to attribute the late commercial panic 
almost exclusively to the extravagance in personal adornment 
of the i\ur sex ; but, without joining in this silly assertion, or 
saying one word in disjxiragement of that charming and l>et- 
ter portion of human kind, truth compels me to state that, as 
regaixls the mere volume and circumference of hoop or crino- 
line, the ladies of London and Paris are, to those of New 
York, but as butterflies compared with canary birds. The 
caricatures of the crinoline mania which the world owes to its 
excellent friend FuncJi, if exaggerations of English tashions, 
are no exaggerations of those of New York ; and to get along 
Broadway, where there is no tacitly understood and acknowl- 
edged law of the pavement as in England, and where every- 
one takes the wall as it pleases him or her, is no easy matter. 
Even without these abominable hoops, it would be ditficult 
for an Englislunan, accustomed to have the wtdl at bis right 
hand, to make any pi\"^gress, unless by a series of provoking 
zigztigs ; but, hustled by crinolines, the best thing for the gal- 
lant man who is in a hurry is to step off the pavement into 
the road. Nor haA"e the fair ladies all the hoops to them- 
selves. The dark ladies share with them the passion, or the 
sentiment of the monstrosity, and inflate their garments to 
the most ridiculous proportions. Little negix) girls of four- 



NEW YORK. 21 

teen or fifteen years of age, with bright-colored parasols, bright 
cotton and silk dresses of a width surpassing any credence but 
that of the eyes of the beholder, flounder awkwardly to and 
fro ; and aged negresses, equally splendid and equally rotund, 
waddle like hippopotami among their Anglo-Saxon and Celtic 
fellow-creatures, as if they had' been rigged out maliciously by 
some hater of crinoline, and launched into the street to con- 
vert their fairer sisters to the use of a more elegant form of 
dress, upon the same principle as the ancients inculcated so- 
briety by the spectacle of their drunken slaves. There is not 
only a craze for crinoline here, but crinoline itself is crazy — 
huge, unwieldy, pi'eposterous, and in every way offensive. 

Another feature of Broadway is the number of Irish and 
Germans who swarm in it, on it, and round about it. The 
Irish seem to have the news trade to themselves ; and the 
newsboys and newsgirls, selling the cheap daily newspapers, 
are to be met with at every corner, and blockade the entrances 
to all the principal hotels. Eagged, barefooted, and pertina- 
cious, they are to be found in the streets from dawn till past 
the dark, crying out " The glorious news of the fall of Delhi!" 
The last " terrible explosion on the Ohio — one hundred lives 
lost!" or the last "Attempted assassination in a lager beer 
cellar !" They recall the memories of the old country by their 
garb, appearance, and accent, if not by their profession ; while 
their staid elders, male and female, who monopolize the apple- 
stalls, look far sleeker and more comfortable than their com- 
peers do at home, and show by their cozy appearance that 
they have prospered in the new land. The Germans are 
more quiet, and pursue more responsible callings. 



22 LIFE ^\:N'D I.IBEETY IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER III. 

BKOADW'AY BY NIGHT. 

New York, Dec. 1, 1S57. 

" I KXVY von your trip to America," said mine urbane and 
friendly host of the AYaterloo Hotel, at Liverpool, as, two 
months ago, he took leave of me at his door, and "wished me 
a sale and speedy pass;\ge across the Atlantic. There seemed 
to bo nothing very cua iable in the matter, for the wind had 
been howling all the night, the mercury in the glass was fall- 
ing, the rain was beating ag-ainst the windows, and the pros- 
pects of the voyage, all things considered, seemed the reverse 
of agro cable. 

"And why?" said I. with a faint and, doubtless, unsuccess- 
ful attempt to look comfortable and happy. 

" Because," I'cplied he, his joyous features beaming out into 
a still greater refulgence of smiles than they had previously 
worn, '• vou will get such delicious oysters ! Now York beats 
all civation for oystei-s." 

JMine host spoke the truth. Thci'o is no place in the world 
whei-e there are such tine oysters as in New York, and the 
sea-board cities of America ; fine in flavor, and of a size un- 
parallolod in the oyster beds of "NYhitstable, Ostend, or the 
once celebrated Kocher de Cancale. Nor has the gift of oys- 
tei-s l^een bestowed upon an ungrateful people. If one may 
jndgo froni appearances, the delicacy is highly relished and es- 
tooniod by all classes, from the millionaire in the Fifth Avenue 
to the '" l>oy" in the Bowery, and the German and Irish emi- 
gi'ants in their o^ati peculiar quarters of the city, which (soit 
ifit ai }Xissant) seem to monopolize t\ll the filth to be found in 
^Manhattan. In walking up Broadway by day or by night — 
but more especially by night — the stranger can not but re- 
mark the groat number of •* Oyster Siiloons," '• Oyster and 
Coffee Saloons," and " Oyster and Lager Beer Saloons," which 
solicit him at every turn to 5top and taste. These saloons — 



BROADWAY BY NIGHT. 23 

many of them very handsomely fitted up — are, like the drink- 
ing saloons in Germany, situated in vaults or cellars, with 
steps from the street ; but, unlike their German models, they 
occupy the undergi-ound stories of the most stately commercial 
palaces of that city. In these, as in the hotels, oysters as large 
as a lady's hand are to be had at all hoiu's, either from the 
sliell, as they are commonly eaten in England, or cooked in 
twenty, or, perhaps, in forty or a hundred different ways. 
Oysters pickled, stewed, baked, roasted, fried, and scolloped ; 
oysters made into soups, patties, and puddings; oysters with 
condiments and witliout condiments ; oysters for breakfast, 
dinner, and supper ; oysters without stint or limit — fresh as 
the fresh air, and almost as abundant — are daily offered to 
the palates of the Manhattanese, and appreciated with all the 
gratitude which such a bounty of natui'e ought to inspire. 
The shore of Long Island, fronting the Long Island Sound, 
for one hundred and fifteen miles, is one long succession of 
oyster-beds. Southward, along the coast of New Jersey, and 
down to Delaware, Pennsylvania and Virginia, and northward 
and eastward to Rhode Island and Massachusetts, the same 
delicacies abound, and foster a large and very lucrative com- 
merce. In City Island, the whole population, consisting of 
400 persons, is employed in the cultivation of oysters. The 
City Islanders are represented as a very honest, peculiar, and 
primitive community, who intermarry entirely among them- 
selves, and drive a very flourishing business. The oyster which 
they rear is a particular favorite. Other esteemed varieties 
come from Shrewsbury, Cow Bay, Oyster Bay, Rock Bay, 
Saddle Rock, Virginia Bay, and Spuyten Duyvel. It is re- 
lated of an amiable English earl, who a few years ago paid a 
visit to the United States, that his great delight was to wander 
up and down Bi'oadway at night, and visit the principal oyster 
saloons in succession, regaling himself upon fried oysters at 
one place, upon stewed oysters at another, upon roasted oysters 
at a third, and winding up the evening by a dish of oysters a 
VAnrjlaise. On leaving New York to return to England, he 
miscalculated the time of sailing of the steamer, and found that 
he had an hour and a half upon his hands. 



24 LIFE AXI) LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 

" What shall Ave do ?" said the American Mend, who had 
como to see him olf. 

'• Return to Broadway," said his lordship, " and have some 
more oysters." 

As nearly all the theatres are in Broadway, the Broadway ' 
oyster saloons command at night a trathc even larger than by 
day. "iwv/(7« cousumere nati" may designate humanity else- 
where, but here the quotation may be out of place, for man 
seems born to consume " oysters." 

Seated in one of these saloons, and amused at the satisfac- 
tion with which a company of Germans were consuming pickled 
oysters, and inhaling the Lager bier, which the United States 
owe to the German immigration, I heard a sudden rush and 
rumble in Broadway. 

" "What is the matter ?" said I, 

''Only a tire," replied an American friend; "but don't 
move. Nobody thinks any tiling about tires here. Fires are 
familiar incidents. They are an institution of the country; 
we are proud of them. Besides, Ave do not belieA-e all the 
alarms of fire that are raised, for the ' boys* like to ImA-e a 
run. If your OAvn Avails are heated by a contlagTation next 
door, you may bestir yourself, but not till then." 

•' But I have heard much of the firemen, and should like to 
see some of them." 

'• They also are an ' institution* in America, and if you have 
not seen them Ave Avill go round to their bunk-rooms." 

" Bunk-rooms ?" I inquired, suggest iA-ely. for the word was 
new. 

" Yes, bunk-rooms ; where they bunk together." 

*' Bunk together ?" 

'• Yes ; bunk, sleep, chum, live together." 

We emerged into BroadAvay. But there was no fire. It 
was only a procession of firemen, A^■ith their engines (or en- 
gines, as the AA-ord is generally pronounced in America), their 
ladders, and their hooks. Thousands of people lined both 
sides of Broadway. It aa'OS a lovely night, clear, crisp, and 
cold, and the rays of the moon fell upon the marble edifices 
with a brilliancy as if they had fallen upon icebergs or the 



BROADWAY BY NIGHT. 25 

snowy summits of hills. Every object was sharp and dis- 
tinct ; and the white spire of Grace Church, more than a mile 
distant, stood out in bold relief against the blue sky, as well 
defined in all its elegant tracery as if it had not been more 
than a hundred yards off. It wag a grand " turn out" of the 
fii'emen. Each company had its favorite engine, of Avhich it 
is as fond as a captain is of his ship, gayly ornamented with 
ribbons, tlags, streamers, and flowers, and preceded by a band 
of music. Each engine was dragged along the streets by tlie 
firemen in their peculiar costume — dark pantaloons, with 
leathern belt around the waist, large boots, a thick red shirt, 
with no coat or vest, and the ordinary fireman's helmet. Each 
man held the rope of the engine In one hand, and a blazing 
torch in the other. The sight was peculiarly impressive and 
picturesque. I counted no less than twenty different com- 
panies, twenty engines, and twenty bands of music — the whole 
procession taking upward of an hour to pass the point at 
which I stood. The occasion of the gathering was to receive 
a fire company on its return from a complimentaiy visit to 
another fire company in the adjoining Commonwealth of 
Rhode Island, a hundred miles off. Such interchanges of 
civility and courtesy are common among the " boys," who in- 
cur very considerable expense in making them, the various 
companies presenting each other with testimonials of regard 
and esteem in the shape of silver claret-jugs, candelabra, tea 
services, etc. But the peculiarities of the firemen, the consti- 
tution of their companies, the life they lead, and their influ- 
ence in the local politics and government of the great cities of 
the Union, are quite a feature in American civic life, totally 
different from any thing we have in England, and so curious 
in every way as to deserve the more elaborate consideration 
which I propose to give them hereafter. 

My present purpose is with the night aspects of Broadway 
— a street that quite as much as any street in London or 
Paris afibrds materials for the study of life and character. In 
one respect it is superior to the streets of London, Being the 
main artery of a great and populous capital, it may be sup- 
posed that vice reigns rampant within it as soon as night has 

B 



26 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

darkened. But, ^vllatcver may be the amount of licentious- 
ness in the city, it does not expose itself to public view in the 
open, glaring, unblushing, brazen, and disgusting manner in 
which Londoners behold it in the Haymarket, Piccadilly, Ke- 
gent Street, and the Strand. I do not speak of hidden im- 
morality ; but, as regards the public exhibition of ^ ice. New 
York is infinitely more modest than London, and almost as 
modest as Paris. We know, however, that the outside ap- 
pearance of Paris is but hypocrisy, and a cloak to vice more 
shameless — or shameful — tlian any thing of Avhich London 
has ever been guilty ; and perhaps the same may be said of 
New York. However, upon this point I forbear to dwell. I 
simply record the fi\ct that, to all outward appearance, New 
York is much more decent and decorous than London. 

A few nights after the torchlight procession of the firemen, 
when making my way from the Astor House to the St. Nicho- 
las, in the midst of a thick drizzling rain, I was somewhat sur- 
prisecl to see a shower of rockets and bluo-lights blazing from 
the middle of the street, and to hear a confused war of shout- 
ing voices, the blast of trumpets, and the beat of drums. But 
the majestic roar of the multitude — the grandest sound in 
nature — predominated above all other noises. Broadway was 
impassable. All the omnibuses had turned out of their usual 
track, and Avere making their way by the back streets and 
parallel avenues to their several points of arrival and depart- 
ure. Had such a gathering been permitted in the streets of 
London by night, there might have been fears for the safety 
of the Bank of England and the 3Iint ; and had it occurred 
in the streets of Paris, the empire of the third Napoleon would 
have stood a chance of once more giving way to a republic or 
some other form of government ; but in New York — where 
there is scarcely a policeman to be seen — it seemed to excite 
no alarm, but considerable curiosity. As I pushed, or insin- 
uated myself as well as I could through the dense mass, the 
rockets kept pouring up to the sky in more i-apid succession ; 
the uproar of the people's voices swelled louder and louder ; 
and Avlion I came within one hundred yards of the St. Nicho- 
liis, I found that that building was the very point of attrac- 



BROADWAY BY NIGHT. 27 

tion, and that an excited orator Avas addressing a still more 
excited auditory from the balcony. Thickly scattered among 
the multitude were grimy fellows in their shirt-sleeves, who 
held aloft blazing torches, and, at each rounded period of the 
orator's address, waved them in the air, and signaled the crowd 
to cheer, shout, and huzza. I could not obtain admission into 
my own abode for the pi'cssure of the multitude, but, after a 
quarter of an hour, succeeded in getting ingi'ess by the back 
door. IVIaking my way to the balcony, I discovered that the 
speaker was the INIayor of New York, elected by universal suf- 
frage, who was addressing his constituents at that late hour 
— nearly eleven o'clock — and soliciting at their hands the 
honor of re-election to the mayoralty. That upturned sea of 
human faces, heedless of the rain that beat doA\Ti upon them, 
eagerly intent upon the hai'd words that the mayor was 
launching against his political opponents — the moving, ex- 
cited, surging, roaring mass, irradiated, as it swayed to and 
fro, by the gleam and glare of hundreds of torches wildly 
waved in the air, formed a most picturesque spectacle. 

The mayor, brother of the theatrical speculator, to wliom 
the world owes the nuisance and the slang of the so-called 
"negro" minstrelsy, had been accused by his opponents in the 
press, and at public meetings, of every crime, public and pri- 
vate, which it was possible for a man to commit short of mur- 
der, and in terms so gross and open that the horsehair wig of 
any judge in England might have stood on end with surprise 
at the audacity of the libels, if brought under his cognizance 
for trial. But the mayor, unabashed and undismayed, seemed 
to consider the charges against his character to be quite con- 
sistent with the ordinary tactics of party strife, and contented 
himself with simple retaliation, and the use of the broadest, 
most vernacular ta quoqiie which it was possible to apply. It 
was difficult to avoid feeling some alarm that, if the police 
were not requisite in such a meeting, the firemen speedily 
would be, either from the effects of the rockets and Roman 
candles, or from those of the torches. But no hai'm came of 
the demonstration ; and a dozen or twenty similar meetings 
by torchlight have since been held by the mayor and his rivals 



28 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

in other parts of the city. Surely a population among whom 
such nightly saturnalia are possible without a general assault 
upon all the shops and stores in the city has an innate respect 
for the laws of meum and tuum % But politics are the life of 
this people. Every man is a voter ; and every officer, general 
or local, president, governor, mayor, alderman, city or state 
treasurer, the officers of the militia, even the firemen, are elect- 
ed by universal suffrage and the ballot-box. 

But, with all this I'espect for property — if these midnight 
and torchlight meetings of an excited multitude in one of the 
richest streets in the world prove, as they seem to do, the in- 
herent peaceableness and respect for law of citizens — New 
York is not a city where either life or property is very secure. 
The daily journals teem with accounts of murder, robbery, and 
outrage; and this morning one of the most influential papers 
asserts in its most prominent leading article that during the 
past three years New York has been sinking in the scale of 
public respectability ; that citizens resort to the expedients of 
border life, and assume the habits of a semi-barbarous society 
for the preservation of their property and the safety of their 
persons ; that ladies are stopped and robbed in the broad light 
of day ; that murderous affrays take place Avith practical im- 
punity to the perpetrators within reach of the public offices 
and under the very eye of the chief magistrate of the city ; 
and that decent people go about their daily business armed 
as if an enemy lui'ked in every lane and gateway of the 
streets. 

This, it is to be hoped, is an exaggeration in the interest 
of the rival candidate for the office of mayor ; but there can, 
unfortunately, be no doubt that the police of New York is not 
equal to its duties, and that robberies, accompanied with vio- 
lence and murder, are of more frequent occurrence here than 
in any other city in the world of the same size and popula- 
tion. Whether the citizens of New York relish the prospect 
or not, they will have, ere many years, to increase their taxes 
and their police force, and regulate it more stringently, and 
by some more efficacious mode than by universal suffrage, and 
by the votes of the very " rowdies" and blackguards they wish 



HOTEL LIFE. 29 

to repress, if they will not resort, in the last extremity of des- 
peration, to the Californian substitution of a Vigilance Com- 
mittee. 



CHAPTER IV. 

HOTEL LIFE. 

New York, Dec. 9, 1857. 
Praise the cities of America, admire the greatness and 
wealth of the country, extol the enterprise and "go-ahcad- 
ativeness" of the people, or expatiate on the. glorious future 
before the republic, and there is a class of persons in this city 
who reply to your enthusiasm with a sneer, and assert that 
they have "heard all that sort of thing before," and "can 
stand a great deal of it" without evil consequences to their 
health or digestion. But if, on the other hand, the stranger, 
in the exercise of his independent judgment, presume to dis- 
approve or condemn any thing in the manners of the people, 
or hint a doubt as to the perfect wisdom of any one of their 
social or political institutions, the porcupines of the press raise 
their quills, and grow exceedingly angry. To them optimism 
or pessimism, or the medium between the two, is equally dis- 
tasteful. No matter how honest may be the praise or how 
gentle the expression of disapproval, they do not like it. They 
seem to suspect all praise to be a sham or a mockery, and to 
feel all dispraise to be an insult and an outrage. In these 
respects they differ from Englishmen, all of whom can bear 
with the most patient equanimity the rubs that would almost 
drive such sensitive Americans out of their wits. It must be 
confessed, however, that the more reflective among the Amer- 
icans, who have seen the world, and are more assured of the 
strength and position of their mighty republic, take things 
mere easily ; accept praise as their due in the same generous 
spirit in v/hich it is offered ; and endeavor to learn wisdom 
from the criticism of people Avho cross the Atlantic to see, 
hear, and judge for themselves. Even if they do not agree 
with the adverse criticism, they have philosophy and common 



80 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEUICA. 

sense enough to be undistui'bed by it, even when it seems to 
be hostile. It is a pity, hoAvever, that such gentlemen and 
philosophers are not more common both in the press and in 
society. 

In describing the aspects of hotel life in New York and in 
the other great cities of America as they have impressed me, 
it is possible that I may incur the displeasure of those who 
hold that the " things of America" should, like the ^^ cosas de 
Esjmna," be kept sacred from all foreigners as things which 
they can not understand, and Avhich they must not touch upon 
except under the penalty of ridicule or misinterpretation of 
motives. Nevertheless, if my judgment be imperfect, it shall, 
at all events, be honest ; and, as regards this particular ques- 
tion of hotel life, there arc many thousands of estimable and 
reflecting men and women in America who, I feel confident, 
will agree in the estimate I form of it. 

The hotels in the great cities of America — in New York, 
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Ncav Orleans, Chicago, 
Boston, etc. — are conducted on a peculiar system, and in a 
style of much magnificence. The British Isles possess no 
such caravansaries. Even the monster Hotel du Louvre in 
Paris is scarcely to be compared with such establishments as 
the St. Nicholas, the Metropolitan, the Astor House, and 
many others in New York. Some of them make up from 
five hundred to a thousand beds, and others from two to five 
hundred. The country is so immense, the distances from 
point to point are so gi'eat — such as from New Orleans to 
Boston, or from New York to Chicago, Detroit, and the Far 
West ; the activity of commerce is so incessant, and its rami- 
fications so extensive, that a much larger class of people than 
with us is compelled by business, public and private, to be 
continually upon the move. In England, hotels are conduct- 
ed in a style suitable to the da}'S of solitary horsemen, gigs, 
and the mail-coach, and moulded upon such limited necessi- 
ties as then existed ; but in America the hotels and the rail- 
ways grew together, and have been made to fit into each oth- 
er. Large hotels are of positive necessity ; and, Avere they 
solely confined to travelers, would deserve the praise of being, 



HOTEL LIFE. 81 

what tliey really ai'C, the finest, most convenient, and best ad- 
ministered establishments in the world. It is not their fault 
that they have, in the course of time, and by the force of cir- 
cumstances, been devoted to other uses, and that they have 
become the permanent homes of families, instead of remaining 
the temporary residences of strangers. 

For a fixed charge of two dollars and a half a day (about 
ten and sixpence English) the traveler has a comfortable bed- 
room, the use of a drawing-room, dining-room, reading-room, 
and smoking-room, and the full enjoyment of a liberal tarift', 
or bill of fare, for breakfast, luncheon, dinner, tea, and supper. 
The two dollars and a half include all charges for servants, 
and every charge whatever that can be fairly included under 
the head of board and lodging, except wine, beer, and spirits. 
There is no charge for wax-lights — that flaring pretext for 
extortion in England. The cookery is in general excellent. 
The breakfast is bounteous, and at the leading hotels is spread 
from eight o'clock till twelve, between which hours fish, flesh, 
and fowl, fresh meat and salt meat, eggs, omelets, wheaten 
bread, rye bread, corn bread, corn cakes, rice cakes, and buck- 
wheat cakes (the last-mentioned a greater delicacy than En- 
gland can show), are liberally distributed. From twelve 
o'clock till two the luncheon is spread with equal profusion ; 
and from two to six there is a succession of dinners, the get- 
ting up of which, at the St. Nicholas, the Metropolitan, or the 
New York, would do credit to the Keform Club and its ex- 
cellent chef de cuisine. As soon as dinner is over, tea com- 
mences, and as soon as tea is cleared away the cloths are laid 
for supper, so that from eight in the morning till midnight 
there is one continual succession of feasts, at which governors 
of states, members of Congress, judges, generals, ex-presidents 
of the republic, the magnates of commerce and the law, and 
all the miscellaneous and less distinguished public, male and 
female, sit down. Whether the traveler do or do not par- 
take, it is the same to the landlord. He may eat once, twice, 
thrice, or all day long, if he pleases. Tlic price is two dollars 
and a half, even should he be a popular celebrity — have many 
friends — and take all his meals abroad. If ladies and fami- 



o2 LIFE AXD LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

lies prefer to have apartments of their own, the price for lodg- 
ing varies from three to five or ten dollars a day, according to 
the extent or elegance of accommodation required. In liko 
manner, the board of each individual, supplietV-in a private 
apartment, is raised from two and a half to four dollars per 
diem. The consequence is that very few people board in 
their private rooms, and that nearly all breakfast, dine, and 
sup in public, except the very young children, for whose con- 
venience there is a separate table d'hote. 

It will thus be seen that for the ti-aveling community these 
hotels are very comfortable, very luxurious, very cheap, and 
very lively. In consequence of the great difficulty which pri- 
vate families experience in procuring cooks and housemaids 
in a country where menial service is considered beneath the 
dignity of a native-born American, where service is called 
"help," to avoid wounding the susceptibility of free citizens, 
and left almost exclusively to negfoes and the newly-imported 
Irish, who too commonly, more especially the female portion 
of them, know nothing whatever of any household duties, and 
whose skill in cookery scarcely extends to the boiling of a 
potato, the mistresses of fomilics keeping house on their o\\ti 
account lead but an imcomfortable life. Li England the 
newly-married couple take a house, furnish it, and live quietly 
at home. In the cities of America — for the rule does not ap- 
ply to the rural districts — they too commonly t;xke apartments 
at the hotel, and live in public, glad to take advantage of the 
ready means which it affords of escape from the nuisances at- 
tendant upon inefficient, incomplete, and insolent service. The 
young wife linds herself relieved from the miseries and re- 
sponsibilities of housekeeping, and has nothing to think of but 
di'css, visiting, i-eading, and amusement. Brides who begin 
married life in hotels often continue in them from youth to 
maturity, without possessing the inestimable advantage and 
privilege of anv more secluded home. To those who know 
nothing of domestic afiairs, and to those who are willing to 
attend to them, but can not procure proper '• help" in their 
household, the hotel system is equally well adapted. It saves 
trouble, annoyance, and expense ; but at what a cost of the 



HOTEL LIFE. 33 

domestic amenities ! Perhaps not above one half of the peo- 
ple "who daily sit down to dinner in these superb establish- 
ments are travelers. The remainder are permanent residents 
— husbands, wives, and children. To eat in public now and 
then may be desirable ; but for ladies to take all their meals 
every day, and all the year round, in the full glare of publicity ; 
to be always full dressed ; to associate daily — almost hourly 
— with strangers from every part of America and of tlie world ; 
to be, if young and handsome, the cynosure of all idle and va- 
grant eyes, either at the tabic cThute or in the public drawing- 
room — these are certainly not the conditions which to an En- 
glishman's mind are conducive to the true happiness and charm 
of wedded life. And it is not only the influence of this state 
of things upon the husband and Avife to which an Englishman 
objects, but its influence upon the young children, who play 
about the corridors and halls of such mansions, and become 
prematurely old for want of fresh air and exercise, and over- 
knowing from the experiences they acquire and the acquaint- 
ances they contract. Perhaps "fast" people may consider 
such objections to savor of " old fogyism." But reasonable 
people will not. The system is peculiar to America, and, 
therefore, strikes the attention more forcibly than if it were 
common to the civilized world. 

It is, doubtless, more the misfortune than the fault of 
American families that they live so much in this style ; for, 
without good servants who know their duty, and are not too 
supercilious and saucy to perform it, it is impossible for a 
lady, without shortening her life and making herself worse 
than a slave, to have a comfortable and happy home, or to 
govern it with pleasure or advantage either to herself or her 
family. Recently the New York and Philadelphia newspa- 
pers have been filled with the details of two scandalous cases 
— one ending in a tragedy — of which a New York and a Phil- 
adelphia hotel were the scenes, and in both of which the fair 
fame of ladies Avas sacrificed'. To these painful exposures it 
is not necessary to make farther allusion ; but they are so 
fresh in the public recollection that they can not be passed 
over, even in this cursory glance at some of the evils attend- 

P. 2 



84 LIFE jSJ^D liberty IN AMERICA. 

ant upon the undue publicity of female life in such monster 
hotels as I have endeavored to describe. 

To all the hotels is attached an establishment kno^\'n as the 
" bar," Avhcre spirituous liquors are retailed under a nomen- 
clature that puzzles the stranger, and takes a long acquaint- 
anceship "with American life and manners to become familiar 
■with. Gin-sling, brandy-smash, whisky-skin, streak of light- 
ning, cock-tail, and rum-salad, are but a few of the names of 
the drinks 'which are consumed at the bar, morning, noon, 
and night, by persons who in a similar rank of life in En- 
gland would no moi'c think of going into a gin-shop than of 
robbing the bank. Fancy a gin-palace under the roof of, and 
attached to, the Reform or the Carlton Club, and free not only 
to the members, but to the world without, and both classes 
largely availing themselves of it to di-ink and smoke, both by 
day and by night, and you will be able to form some concep- 
tion of the "bar" of an American hotel, and of the class of 
people who frequent it. But can such a system conduce to 
any virtuous development of young men in this republic? 
The question admits of many replies ; and without presum- 
ing, on so short an acquaintance Avith the country, to speak 
with authority, I leave it for the consideration of those who 
desire that America should be as wise and happy in the pri- 
vate relations of her citizens as she is free and independent in 
her relations to the great comity of the world. 



CHAl'TER V. 

AJIEKICAN FIREMEN. 

Kcw York. Dec. 21, 1S57. 
Whatever the Americans are proud of — whatever they 
consider to be peculiarly good, useful, brilliant, or character- 
istic of themselves or their climate, they designate, half in jest, 
though scarcely half in earnest, as an "institution." Thus 
the memory of General Washington — or " Saint" Washington, 
as he might be called, considering the homage paid to him — 
is an institution; the Falls of Niagtvra, are an institution; the 



AMERICAN FIREMEN. 35 

Plymouth Rock, on -which the Pilgrim Fathers first set foot, 
is an institution, as much so as the Blarney Stone in Ireland, 
to which an eloquent Irish orator, at a public dinner, com- 
pared it, amid great applause, by affirming that the Plymouth 
Rock was the "Blarney Stone of New England." "Sweet 
potatoes" are an institution, and pumpkin (or punkin) pie is 
an institution ; canvas-back ducks are an institution ; squash 
is an institution ; Bunker's Hill is an institution ; and the 
firemen of New York a great institution. 

The fire system, in nearly all the principal cities of the 
Union is a peculiarity of American life. Nothing like it ex- 
ists in any European community. As yet the city of Boston 
appears to be the only one that has had the sense and the 
courage to organize the fire-brigades on a healthier plan, and 
bring them under the direct guidance and control of the mu- 
nicipality. Every where else the firemen are a power in the 
state, wielding considerable political influence, and uncon- 
trolled by any authority but such as they elect by their own 
free votes. They are formidable by their numbers, dangerous 
by their organization, and in many cities are principally com- 
posed of young men at the most reckless and excitable age of 
life, who glory in a fire as soldiers do in a battle, and who are 
quite as ready to fight with their fellow-creatures as with the 
fire which it is more particularly their province to subdue. 
In New York, Philadelphia, Baltimoi-e, and other large cities, 
the fire service is entirely voluntary, and is rendered for " the 
love of the thing," or for " the fun of the thing," whichever it 
may be. The motto of one fire company at Ncav York, in- 
scribed on their banner, is, 

"Firemen with pleasure, 
Soldiers <at leisure ;" 

a couplet which characterizes the whole spirit of their or- 
ganization. The firemen are mostly youths engaged during 
the day in various handicrafts and mechanical trades, with a 
sprinkling of clerks and shopmen. In New York each candi- 
date for admission into the force must be balloted for, like a 
member of the London clubs. If elected, he has to serve for 
five years, during which he is exempt from juiy and militia 



36 LIFE i\2i:D LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

duty. The firemen elect their own superintendents and other 
oilicers, by ballot, as they Averc themselves elected, and arc 
divided into engine companies, hook and ladder companies, 
and hose companies. The engine and accessories arc provided 
by the municipality ; but the firemen are seldom contented 
•with them in the useful but imadorned state in -which they 
receive them, but lavish upon them an amount of ornament, 
in the shape of painted panels, silver plating, and other finery, 
more than sufficient to prove their liberality, and the pride 
they take in their business. The service is entirely voluntary 
and gratuitous, having no advantages to recommend it but 
those of exemption from the jury and the militia, and leads 
those who devote themselves to it not only into great hardship 
and imminent danger, but into an amount of expenditure 
Avhich is not the least surprising part of the "institution." 
The men — or "boys," as they arc more commonly called — 
not only buy their own costume and accoutrements, and spend 
lai'ge sums in the ornamentation of their favorite engines, or 
hydrants, as already mentioned, but in the furnislung of their 
bunk-rooms and parlors at the fire-stations. The bunk or 
sleeping rooms, in which the unmarried, and sometimes the 
married, membei-s pass the night, to be ready for duty on the 
first alarm of fire, are plainly and comfortably furnished, but 
the parlors ai"e fitted up with a degree of luxury equal to that 
of the public rooms of the most celebrated hotels. At one of 
the central stations, which I visited in company with an editor 
of a New York journal, the walls were hung with portraits of 
"Washington, Franklin, Jefferson, Mason, and other founders 
of the republic ; the floor was covered with velvet-pile carpet- 
ing, a noble chandelier hung from the centre, the crimson cur- 
tains were rich and heavy, while the sideboard A\as spread 
with silver claret-jugs and pieces of plate, presented by citi- 
zens whose houses and property had been preserved from fire 
by the exertions of the brigade ; or by the fire-companies of 
other cities, in testimony of their admiration for some par- 
ticular act of gallantry or heroism which the newspapers had 
recorded. 

If the firemen be an "institution," fire itself is an institu- 



AMEEICAN FIREMEN. 87 

tion in most American cities. Wliether it be carelessness, or 
the habitual overheating of all houses, public and private, by 
the system of flues, furnaces, and stoves which are in ordinary 
use, or the combustibility of the materials of which houses are 
built, or a combination of all these causes, and perhaps many 
others, it is certain that fires are much more common in 
America than they are in Europe. Into whatever city the 
traveler goes, he sees the traces of recent conflagration ; some- 
times whole blocks, or often Avhole streets or parishes leveled 
to the ground, or presenting nothing but bare and blackened 
walls. So constant appears to be the danger, that the streets 
of New York, Boston, and other cities are traversed in all di- 
rections by telegraphic wires, which centre invariably at the 
City Ilall, and convey instantaneously to head-quarters, day 
or night, the slightest alarm of fire. By an ingenious system, 
due to the scientific sagacity of IVIr. Moses G. Farmer and Dr. 
W. F. Channing, of Boston, and brought to its present .pei'fec- 
tion in 1852, the alarm is rajiidly transmitted from any part 
of the circumference to the centre, and from the centre back 
again, through an almost countless number of radii, to the 
whole circumference of the city. In a lecture delivered be- 
fore the Smithsonian Institution at Washington, Dr. Chan- 
ning explained the fire organization of a city by stating that 
" from the central station at the City Hall go out wires over 
the house-tops, visiting every part of the city and returning 
again. These are the signal circuits by which the existence 
of a fire is signalized from any part of the city to the centre. 
Strung on these circuits, or connected with them, are numer- 
ous signal boxes or signalizing points, of which there may bo 
one at the corner of every square. These are cast-iron, cot- 
tage-shaped boxes, attached to the sides of tlie houses, com- 
municating, by means of wires inclosed in a Avrought-iron gas- 
pipe, with the signal circuit overhead. On the door of each 
signal box the number of the fire district, and also the num- 
ber of the box or station itself in its district, are marked, and 
the place in the neighborhood where the key-holder may be 
found is also prominently notified. On opening the door of 
the signal box a crank is seen. When tliis is turned it com- 



38 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

municates to the centre the number of the lire district and of 
the box, and notliing else. Eepeated turns give a repetition 
of the same signaL By this means any child or ignorant per- 
son who can turn a coffee mill can signalize an alarm from 
his own neighborhood "with unerring certainty. Connected 
with the signal circuits at the central ofhce, where they all 
converge, are a little alarm-bell and a register, which notifies 
and records the alarm received from the signal box. The 
galvanic battery which supplies all the signal circuits is also 
placed at the central station. If a fire occurs near signal box 
or station 5, in district 3, and the crank of that box is turned, 
the watchman or operator at the central station will immedi- 
ately be notified by the little bell, and will read at once on 
his register the telegraphic characters which signify district 3, 
station 5. Having traced the alarm of a fire from a signal 
box into the central station, the next question is, how shall 
the alarm be given from that centre to the public ? From 
the central station proceed also several circuits of wires, call- 
ed alarm circuits, which go to the various fire-bells through- 
out the city, and which are connected with striking machines 
similar in character to the striking machinery of a clock, but 
liberated by telegraph. The operator at the central .station 
is enabled, by the mere touch of his finger upon a key, to 
throw all the striking machines into simultaneous action, and 
thus give instantaneous public alarm." 

It is certainly a triumph of science to be enabled by means 
of one instrument to ring simultaneously all the alarm-bells 
in every steeple and tower of a great and populous city, and 
call out the fire companies with their engines, ladders, ropes, 
hooks, and hose, and designate to each of them at the same 
moment the particular spot in the city which is threatened 
with devastation, although the veiy completeness of the ar- 
rangement, and the necessities which called it into existence, 
are suflicient to prove that there is something wrong either in 
the house-building or the house-heating of America, or in the 
absence of the careful attention which in other parts of the 
world renders fire less frequent. 

The assertion is frequently made by Americans, whenever 



FKOM NEW YORK TO BOSTON. 39 

the subject of fires is mentioned, that many fires are purposely 
caused by tlie " boys" for the sake of a frolic, or a run, or in a 
spirit of rivalry between two or more companies, who desire 
to compete with each other in the performance of deeds of 
daring, or who long, as^ they sometimes do, for a street fight 
to wipe out some ancient grudge which had its origin at a 
fire. The. statement is repeated on American authority, and 
must go for what it is worth — as something which may be 
false, but which is believed by many estimable citizens of the 
republic to be true. In Philadelphia and Baltimore alarms 
of fire are regularly expected on Saturday nights, when the 
" boys" have received their Aveek's wages, and are ripe for 
mischief. In Boston, where the firemen are paid by the city, 
and Avhei'e they are entirely under the control of the munici- 
pality, fires are less frequent than elsewhere, and fights among 
the firemen are entirely unknown. New York and the other 
great American cities must ultimately resort to the same sys- 
tem, or continue to pay the penalty not only of constant loss 
of life and property, but of the preponderance of a very un- 
Vuly and dangerous class in the lower strata of their popu- 
lation. 

The firemen throughout the Union have a newspaper of 
their own, devoted exclusively to their interests, and to the 
promulgation of facts and opinions relating to the fraternity. 



CHAPTER VI. 

FROM NEW YORK TO BOSTON. 



October, 1857. 
In fine weather — or perhaps in any weather — the plcasant- 
est mode of traveling between New York and Boston is by 
steam-boat through the Long Island Sound to Fall Eiver, a 
distance of upward of 200 miles, and from Fall River by rail- 
way to Boston, 54 miles. Railway traveling in the United 
States is not agi-eeable. Such easy luxury as that of a first- 
class carriage in England or in France is not to be obtained 
for love or money. In a land of social equality, every one 



40 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

except the negro travels in the first class. The sei'vant and 
the mistress, the navvie, the peddler, the farmer, the merchant, 
the general, the lawyer, the senator, the judge, and the gov- 
ernor of the state, with their wives, their sons, and their 
daughters, and even the Irish bogtrotter, who, before he left 
Ireland, would as soon have thought of taking the chair from 
the viceroy, or the pulpit from the Roman Catholic Arch- 
bishop of Dublin, as of traveling in a first-class carriage, but 
who, in this country, handles more money in a day than he 
saw in the old country in a month, and who waxes saucy in 
proportion to his cash, all mingle together in one long car, by 
no means so comfortable as a second-class carriage on any of 
the principal lines in Great Britain. 

These cars accommodate each from sixty to eighty travelers, 
and in the winter are warmed by stoves burning anthracite 
coal, which stoves and which coal are among the greatest af- 
flictions and miseries of the country. Every place to which 
an unfortunate stranger can resort is overheated by these 
abominable contrivances. They burn out all the elasticity 
and moisture of the atmosphere ; they quicken the pulse, in- 
flame the skin, and parcli the tongue. Hotels, private houses, 
railway cars, all are alike rendei-ed intolerable by their heat, 
until, oppi-essed by the sulphury and palpitating hotness, de- 
pressed in spirit, weakened in bodj^, and well-nigh suffocated, 
the stranger accustomed to the wholesome fresh air rushes out 
to get a gulp of it, and takes cold by the suddenness of the 
transition. Perhaps the universal use of these stoves may ac- 
count for the sallowness of so many of the American people, 
which contrasts so remarkably with the ruddy freshness of the 
English. An equal freshness is seldom to be seen here except 
in young children and among new-comers. He who would 
avoid this nuisance, as well as such other discomforts of the 
rail as the want of all support for the back or the head in 
long journeys, rendering sleep an almost unattainable bless- 
ing, should travel by the steam-boats whenever he has a 
chance. Against the steam-boats the only objection is that 
they sometimes bloAV up or take fire. But these are rare oc- 
currences ; and no man of ordinary nerve and courage who is 



FEOM NEW yOEK TO BOSTOIST. 41 

compelled to travel need alarm himself unduly by the antici- 
pation of such catastrophes. As every man believes all men 
to be mortal except himself, so most travelers believe that 
every boat may explode, or burn, or be wrecked except the 
particular boat by which they happen to take their passage. 
Were it not so, who would travel, unless from the direst ne- 
cessity? The steamers that ply in the Long Island Sound 
are, as regards all their interior arrangements, as handsome 
and luxurious as the railway cars arc the reverse. For a 
slight extra charge, only amounting to one dollar in the dis- 
tance between New York and Boston, a private state-room or 
cabin can be obtained, fitted up with every comfort and con- 
venience. 'SYhy similar privacy and comfort are not obtain- 
able on the railways it is difficult to say. Though huge, un- 
wieldly, and ungraceful when seen from the outside, Avith their 
machinery working on the top, the river and 'long-shore steam- 
boats, when examined from within, are worthy of the name of 
floating palaces. The saloons, three deep, one above the 
other, and affording a promenade the whole length of the ves- 
sel, arc large and airy, richly carpeted, and decorated Avith vel- 
vet and gold, with easy-chairs, fauteuils, and sofas, and all 
appliances either for waking or for sleeping. Some of them 
make up from 600 to 800 berths, in addition to the private 
state-rooms. The tables are bountifully spread for meals, and 
the negro stewards and waiters, who are the best servants 
procurable in the United States, and far superior to the Irish, 
their only competitors in this line of business, are attentive and 
obliging. 

Expecting to dine on board, I took no dinner in New York, 
but found at six o'clock that tea only was provided. The tea, 
however, had all the bounteousness of a dinner — fish, flesh, 
fowl, pastry, and dessert ; every thing except beer or wine. 
Seeing this, I asked the jet-black negro who waited on me to 
bring me some lager beer. 

" Can't do it, sar," said he, with a grin ; " it's against the 
rules, sar." 

"What rules'?" 

" The rules of the ship. Ours is a temperance boat, sar." 



42 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AirEKICA. 

"Then ■why don't yon advertise it as a temperance boat, 
that people may take their choice?" 

*'Ali the !?ame, ?ar/' i^aid the negro; "'zackly the same. 
Can't let you have beer or wine at the table ; but you go on, 
sar, to the barber's shop, and thar you'll got every thing you 
■want, sar — whisky, rum, brandy, -wine — all sorts thar, sar." 

It was even so. In each steamer is a barber's shop, hand- 
somely fitted up, and where the traveler can have his hair cut, 
or cleaned, or washed, or where he may be shaved by a black 
barber, and where, Avhetlier the boat be a temperance boat, or 
a boat tor the moderate enjoyment and use of the liquid bless- 
ings of life, he can obtain gin-slings, and cock-tails, and whis- 
ky-skins, and all the multifarious spirituous drinks of America. 
The only interference with his personal liberty in the matter 
is that he must take his drink in the barber's sanctum, and 
can not have it served to him in any other part of the ship. 
I mention this fact for the edification of Exeter Hall, and of 
those who would introduce the ]Maine Liquor Law, or some- 
thing like it, into England, as one out of many proofs Avhicli 
might be adduced to show how great a '' sham" is the opera- 
tion of that prohibitive and tyrannical measure in the country 
which gave it birth. 

Boston, the capital of the small but ancient, wealthy, and 
intelligent commonwealth of jNIassachusetts, the model and 
most conservative state of the Union, is one of the most pic- 
turesque as well as important cities of America. The original 
Indian name of the small peninsula on which it is built was 
" Shawmnt," or the '• Living Fountains." From the three 
hills on which it stands, which have been now partly leveled, 
it obtained from the early settlers the name of Tremont, or 
Trimounttiin — a name still given to it by poets and orators 
when they strive to be particularly eloquent. In compliment 
to the Kev. John Cotton, the Vicar of Boston, in Lincolnshire, 
who emigrated here for conscience' sake, with the other hardy 
and honest Englishmen, who have obtained the honorable 
name of the " Pilgrim Fathers," it received from the early 
settlers the name of Boston. Since that day it has gro^^^^ to 
be a city of 180,000 inhabitants, and the nucleus of quite a 



FROM NEW YORK TO BOSTON. 43 

congeries of other cities almost as important as itself. These 
stretch around it on every side, but are divided from it either 
by tlic arms of the sea or by the pleasant waters of the Charles 
liivcr. Charlestown, Cambridge, Koxbury, Brighton, Brook- 
line, and Chelsea are so closely united to Boston as virtually 
to form part of it on the map, although most of tlicm are in- 
dependent cities, governed by their own magisti'ates and munic- 
il)alities. The total population of Boston and the outlying 
cities, towns, and villages is upward of 400,000. Boston city 
is divided into South Boston, East Boston, and Boston rro[)er. 
The old cily, or Boston Proper, stands on a peninsula, sur-- 
rounded by salt water on three sides, and on the fourth by the 
brackish water of the Charles River, which, at its confluence 
with the sea, spreads out like a small lake. It is connected 
by a narrow strip of land, not more than two feet above high 
water, and called the Neck, Avith the suburb or city of Kox- 
bury. Bunker's or Bunker Ilill — so named, according to 
some, from Bunker's Hill in Lincolnshire, and according to 
others from Bunker's Hill in the town of Nottingham, is not 
in Boston, but in the adjoining city of Charlestown, with which 
it has communication by four bridges — two for ordinary traf- 
fic, and two for the railways. 

The 750 acres of gi'ound on which old Boston is built was 
occupied, in the year 1G35, by the Rev. John Blackstone, the 
only inhabitant, as well as the sole owner of the soil. Mr. 
Blackstone sold the land for £30 English money. There are 
now many sites in the city worth as much per square yard. 
Boston is very picturesque, very clean, and very English. It 
has not the French and foreign aspect of New York,- but is 
altogether quieter and more sedate, and justifies, by its out- 
ward appearance, the character it has acquired of being the 
Athens of the New "World, the mart of literature, and the 
most intellectual city in America. Not that this high char- 
acter is willingly conceded to it by people who live beyond the 
limits of Charleston, Roxbury, and Cambridge; for the New 
Yorkers, the Philadelphians, and many others, so far from 
taking the Bostonians at the Bostonian estimate of themselves, 
hold their high pretensions in scorn, and speak contemptuous- 



44 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

\j of them as utter "Yankees." There can, however, be no 
doubt, all jealousy and rivalries apart, that the society of Bos- 
ton is highly cultivated and refined, and that, if it do not ex- 
cel, it is not excelled by that of any city in the Union. 

The great chai'm of the scenery of Boston is its Common or 
Park — a piece of ground covering about forty acres, and open 
on one side to the Charles River, over the estuary of which, 
and the heights beyond, it commands from every part a series 
of extensive and beautiful views. The other sides of the 
Common are occupied by the residences of the principal inhab- 
itants — noble stone buildings most of them — and representing 
a rental ranging from £300 to £800 or £1000 per annum. 
House-rent is exceedingly high in all the gi'eat American 
cities, and is at least double that of houses of the correspond- 
ing style in London. In all distant views the State House 
dominates the city as the highest and most conspicuous object, 
around which every thing else is concentrated. The view 
from the top of this edifice well repays the labor of the ascent, 
and affords an unrivaled panorama of the busy, populous, and 
thriving home which the descendants of the ancient English 
Puritans have made for themselves in the New World. In 
the Common, surrounded by a railing to protect it from in- 
jury, stands a venerable elm, with an inscription stating that 
it is believed to have been planted before the first settlement 
of Boston as a colony, and that it began to exhibit signs of old 
age a quarter of a centurj' ago. Its boughs are inhabited by 
a colony of tame gray squirrels. To throw nuts to these 
graceful little creatures, and watch their gambols, is one of 
the principal amusements of the nursemaids and children of 
Boston, as well as of many older and wiser persons. There 
are similar colonies in the other elms in some of the principal 
streets. The squirrels are general favorites, and have no ene- 
mies except among the cats, which occasionally make an in- 
road upon them and diminish their numbers, to the gi'cat dis- 
gust and indigiiation of the well-minded population. It may 
be mentioned as an interesting fact in natural history that the 
elms in Boston planted by the English settlers from slips or 
seeds brought from England retain their leaves much later 



FROM NEW YORK TO BOSTON. 45 

than the native American elms. At this advanced period of 
the year may be noticed, amid the leafless or the brown and 
yellow trees that grace the Common, seven elms of most lux- 
uriant green foliage, which seem not to have lost a leaf, or to 
possess a leaf in the slightest degree discolored. These are 
the English elms, sturdy Britons, flourishing in a vigorous old 
age, while their Yankee brethren, seedy, sapless, and wobe- 
gone, look as sallow as if they too, like their human compa- 
triots, smoked immoderately, chewed tobacco, spat, lived in 
heated rooms, and, in their over-eagerness to get rich, did in- 
justice to their physical nature. 

The principal street of Boston is Washington Street, a long 
and not very even thoroughfare, but picturesque and English 
in its character, and containing some very handsome shops. 
The most interesting, if not the most prom.inent of them, is 
the " book-store" of Messrs. Ticknor and Fields — two asso- 
ciates who have published more poetry, and, if report speak 
truly, made moi'e money by it than any other publishers in 
America. Their store is the lounge and resort of all the lit- 
erary celebrities of Boston and Harvard University. Here 
Longfellow, poet, scholar, and gentleman, looks in to have a 
chat. Here Professor Agassiz, who has rendered himself 
doubly dear to Boston by refusing to leave it on the invita- 
tion of Napoleon III., and the offer of a large salary in Paris, 
shows his genial and benevolent face, more contented to live 
humbly in a land of liberty, than ostentatiously and luxurious- 
ly in a land of thraldom. Here Oliver W. Holmes, the " Au- 
tocrat of the Breakfast Table," who ought to be well known 
in England, comes to give or receive the news of the day. 
Here the amiable Prescott, the historian, and one of the 
most estimable of men — to have shaken whose hand is a priv- 
ilege — sometimes looks in at the door with a face like a ray 
of sunshine. Here poets, poetesses, lecturers, preachers, pro- 
fessoi's, and newspaper editors have combined, without pre- 
meditation, to establish a sort of Literary Exchange, where 
they may learn what new books are forthcoming, and talk to- 
gether upon literature and criticism. 

Boston is the great metropolis of lecturers, Unitarian preach- 



46 LIFE AND LIBEIITY IN AMERICA. 

ers, ami poets. Perhaps for poets it would bo better to say 
rhymex's or versifiers, and I make the correction accordingly. 
The finest churches in the city — with the tallest and hand- 
somest spires, and the most imposing fronts and porticoes, 
belong to the Unitarians. Lecturers have been so richly en- 
dow^ed by the Lowel bequest, that the Bostonians, over-belcc- 
tured, often experience a feeling of nausea at the very sug- 
gestion of a lecture, or worse still, of a series of them ; and 
as for poets and poetesses, or, as I should say, rhymers and 
versifiers, both male and female, their name is " legion upon 
legion." In walking along Washington Street, and meeting a 
gentlemanly-looking person with a decent coat and a clean 
shirt, the traveler may safely put him down as either a lec- 
tui'er, a Unitarian minister, or a poet ; possibly the man may 
be, Cerberus-like, all three at once. In Boston the onus lies 
upon every respectable person to prove that he has not written 
a sonnet, preached a sermon, or delivered a lecture ; and few 
there arc above the station of the lowest kind of handicrafts- 
men who could lay their hands upon their hearts and plead 
not guilty to one or the other of these charges. 

Within an easy ride by rail from Boston, and almost near 
enough to form a suburb, is the city of Cambridge, celebrated 
as the seat of the Harvard University, the most serviceable 
educational institution in America. Harvard has no preten- 
sions to rival its British namesake either in "wealth or archi- 
tectural beauty, and is but a modest assemblage of unconnect- 
ed and unattractive looking buildings. But it has turned out 
some of the best men in America, and to be its pi-esident is 
one of the greatest honors to which a citizen of Massachusetts 
can aspire. 

It is not any portion of the plan of this book to record 
private conversations or private hospitalities. If it were, 
much might be said of Cambridge and Harvard, and of the 
choice spirits whom it was my privilege to meet on my short 
but most pleasant visit to its classic pui'lieus. Let it suffice 
to say that in my remembrance it is sacred to the name and 
to the companionship of such men as Longfellow, Agassiz, 
Lowell, and the excellent and venerable Josiah Quincy, long 



TO THE FALLS OF NIAGARA, 47 

the president of the University. Tlie last-named gentleman 
is one of the few survivors of the British era. He was born 
a IJritish subject before the Declaration of Independence, and 
still survives in a green and illustrious old age to shed honor 
upon American liberty. 



CPIAPTER VII. 

TO THE FALLS OF KIAGARA. 

Nov. 3d, 1857. 
It was a beautiful morning when I took the train from 
Boston for the Falls of Niagara. The foliage was not in the 
full bloom and flush of that autumnal glory which makes the 
month of October so lovely in America, but the trees wei*e far 
from bare. The " pride of India," the alanthus, and the elm, 
were shorn of their sjilendors, and were all but leafless ; but 
the oaks, and, more especially, the maples, glittered in green, 
brown, and crimson magnificence. Nothing can surpass the 
beauty of the American maples at this season, when their 
leaves, turned to a blood-red color by the first touch of the 
winter frosts, gleam, fairest of the fair, amid the yellowing 
foliage of oaks and beeches, the bright green of the fir-trees, 
and the more sombre verdure of the omnipresent pine. The 
sky was cloudless, and the atmosphere so transparent that re- 
mote objects were brought out sharply and distinctly, as if 
close to the eye. To the mind of one accustomed to the 
English and Scottish landscape, there was one defect in the 
character of the scenery, and that was the absence of the green 
grass, earth's most beautiful adornment in the British Isles, 
but which is nowhere to be seen on the American continent 
after the early summer. The heat of July parches and withers 
it, and in autumn and winter there may be said to be no gi-ass 
at all — nothing but shriveled herbage, dry as stubble, and of 
the same color. But otherwise the landscape was as fair as 
poet or painter could desire, and the delicious blue of the sky, 
and the hazy, dreamy stillness of the Indian summer, made 
amends even for the absence of grass. If nature had not 



48 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

spread a carpet, she had certainly hung curtains and drapery 
of regal magnificence. 

Though I ardently desired, I yet dreaded to see Niagara. 
Wordsworth at Yarrow " had a vision of his own," and was 
afraid lest he should undo it by making too close an acquaint- 
anceship with the reality. Such were my feelings on draw- 
ing near to the falls. Unlike a celebrated traveler from En- 
gland, who had, very shortly before my visit, been at Buttalo — 
within two hours' journey by railway, yet had never had the 
curiosity, or found the time, to look at Niagara face to face, 
I was positively pervaded, permeated, steeped, and bathed in a 
longing desire to behold it; and my feai's but arose from the 
excess of my love. The season was not the most favoi'able 
that could have been chosen ; but, as one who might never 
have another opportunity, I determined, whatever welcome the 
weather might give me — whether amid rain, hail, or snow — 
to gaze upon this wonder of creation while yet it Avas in my 
power, and to hear that great voice preaching in the wilder- 
ness, and singing forever and ever the old and eternal anthem, 
" God is great !" 

Our first resting-place of importance was at Albany, the 
political capital of the State of New York ; our next at Utica, 
ninety-five miles from Albany, where it was originally my in- 
tention to remain for two or three days, to visit the Trenton 
Falls, as beautiful, though not so grand, as Niagara, and by 
many travelers preferred to the more stupendous marvel of 
the two. But, on learning that the hotel, the only house in 
the place, had long been closed for the season, I held on my 
way. A sudden fall of snow, just as I was debating the ques- 
tion, was the last feather that broke the back of the camel of 
Doubt, and made me press on to my journey's end. From 
Utica — a place of considerable trade, and with a population 
of upward of 20,000 — ^ur train started to Rome, and from 
Kome to Syi-acuse. After leaving the last-mentioned place 
we lost sight for a while of this classical nomenclature, and 
travoi-sed a region Avhere Asiatic names were in greater fa- 
vor — ^through Canton to Pekin — leaving Delhi on the left. 
Thence we emerged into a district where the to\\Tis of ancient 



TO THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. 49 

and modern Europe and Africa seemed to have had a stiff 
battle to perpetuate their names in the New World, and where 
Attica, Athens, Geneva, Palmyra, Hamburg, Carthage, Al- 
giers, and Glasgow were scattered about in the most perplex- 
ing confusion. On either side of the way the stumps of trees 
that had been cut down by the.pitUess axe of the settlers, and 
the black, charred, ghost-like stems of monarchs of the forest, 
which, to save labor, they had attempted to desti-oy by fire, 
stood in the utterness of their desolation. The swamps of 
dark moss-colorcd water, amid which they rotted, reflected 
their melancholy grandeur, undisturbed by any ripple larger 
than had been o- easioned by a falling leaf. The villages and 
towns, most of hem aspiring to be called cities, presented in- 
variably the jame rude, unfinished appearance. Mingled 
amid the log huts, the cabbage-gardens, and the squash-fields, 
were churches, chapels, hotels, stores, banks, mills, and print- 
ing-offices, most of them incomplete at that time, but doubt- 
less, ere this, in full activity of life and business. Irish and 
Germans seemed to form the bulk of the community. " Gast- 
liaus," in German characters, was a word that continually 
met the eye ; while the ubiquitous pig, and such names over 
the doors as O'Driscoll, Murphy, O'Brien, and O'Callaghan, 
unequivocally affirmed the fact that the Germans had not en- 
tirely monopolized the farms, the fields, the shanties, and the 
stoi'es of the country. At Kome an old man got into our car, 
who did us the favor of remaining with us for upward of fifty 
miles of our journey. He plied during the whole of the time 
a vigorous ti ide in some quack medicine of his own concoc- 
tion, which he declared to be " good for fevers, agues, dys- 
pepsias, rheumatisms, and colics." The price was a dollar a 
bottle ; and among the sixty persons in our car he succeeded 
in getting no less than nine customers by dint of the most 
impudent and vexatious pertinacity I ever beheld. But trade 
of every kind is so congenial with the spirit of the American 
people, that no display of it at any time, and under any cir- 
cumstances, seems to be offensive, but, on the contrary, to be 
admired as something " smart" and praiseworthy. Having 
exhausted our car and my patience, the peddler disappeared 

C 



50 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

into the car adjoining, Avhere he no doubt carried on the same 
series of performances. We "vvcre no sooner relieved of his 
presence than a book-hawker made his appearance, and left a 
prospectus Avith every traveler, to study or to cast upon the 
floor, and after a sufficient interval i-eturned for orders. But 
the book-trade did not appear to be very prosperous, and he 
gathered up his prospectuses to do service on a future occa- 
sion. Then, changing his literary business for that of a deal- 
er in maple-candy, peppermint-drops, cakes, and apples, he al- 
lowed us no cessation from importunity until we arrived at 
the city of Rochester, Avhere a new set of plagues of the same 
class took possession of us, and accompanied us the Avhole way 
to Niagara. 

At Rochester — a city of nearly 50,000 inhabitants, seated 
upon the Genesee River, Avliose magnificent falls give it an 
amount of Avater-power Avhich any city in the Avoi'ld might 
envy — the Ncav York Central Railroad crosses the stream 
upon a bridge much more substantial than such structures 
usually are in the United States. But the bridge being with- 
in a hundred yards above the fall, the passengers by rail can 
not obtain exen a glimpse of the cataract as they pass. On a 
subsequent occasion I stopped a night at Rochester to view 
the fall. When this part of the Avorld Avas a Avilderness the 
Genesee must haA'e been eminently grand and beautiful. Even 
noAv, Avhcn there is not a tree upon the banks, and when a 
succession of flour, paper, and other mills has monopolized all 
the available space on both banks, and filched from the great 
fall itself a hundred little streams, that discharge their poAver 
over the Avheels of as many mills and fiActories, the rush of the 
mighty river is a noble sight. INIan has disfigured the banks, 
but the stream itself is not only too unmanageable to be 
brought into subjection to his uses, but too vast in its loA'eli- 
ness and grandeur to be sensibly impaired, or made other than 
beautiful, whatever he may do to it. 

It had been dark for tAvo hours before we reached Niagara 
City, sometimes called " The City of the Falls ;" and Avhen 
the .train stopped I distinctly heard the dull, heavy roar of 
earth's most stupendous cataract. All the great hotels were 



TO THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. 51 

closed for the season. The Cataract House, and the Interna- 
tional, on the American side, and the Clifton House, on the 
Canadian shore, were alike deserted and sealed against the 
visitor. No place remained available for a nightly lodging 
but a third, or, I might say, a fifth-rate hotel, considering the 
style of the accommodation and the cookery, and thither I 
betook myself and engaged a bed. I had no sooner made all 
my arrangements for the night than I sallied out to take a 
glimpse of the moonlight glory of Niagara. I had some diffi- 
culty in finding my way. The guides had all departed weeks 
previously, and there was not even a stray inhabitant in the 
Avide, muddy, unfinished sti'cets of Niagara City. A few pigs 
still prowled about in the miiy ways, a few German Gasthause 
were still open, but there were no other sounds or sights of 
life in all the melancholy place. The International Hotel, a 
huge block, about three times as large as the Keform Club — 
had all its shutters up ; and the shops and stores of the In- 
dian dealers in furs, moccasins, and stuffed birds were closed. 
At last, in my perplexity, I was constrained to enter a Ger- 
man beer-house to ask my way to the falls. The honest Ger- 
man to whom I put the question stared at me with genuine 
astonishment. He seemed to think that I had either lost my 
senses, or that I had never possessed any. 

"Do you want to cross to the other side^" he asked, in 
tolerably good English ; " because, if you do, it is late for the 
ferry, and I advise you to go to the Suspension Bridge." 

"How far is if?" said I. 

" Two miles," he replied. 

"But I only -want to take a look at the fldls," I rejoined. 

" To-night f ' 

"Yes, to-night ; why notf 

"To-night ! But why not wait till daylight? But I beg 
your pardon ; you must surely be an Englishman '? Nobody 
else would be absurd enough to want to sec the falls at such 
a time, and risk his neck in the attempt. The ferryman lives 
on the Canadian side, and is not likely to come across for you, 
even if you can make him hear, which is doubtful." 

I thought so too, considering the noise which Niagara made, 



52 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

and which I could hear as the bass to the shrill treble of the 
German's speech ; but he kindly directed me to the ferry- 
house with a shrug of pity, and the parting consolation that, 
if I failed to get across that night, I could see the Mis in the 
morning, Avhich, in his opinion, woidd be quite soon enough for 
any rational being. 

The ferry-house was as deserted as the hotels. Its door 
was open, but the interior was almost pitch dark ; and after 
groping about for some minutes, reluctant to return without 
a sight of the falls, I discovered that the ferry-house was on 
the top of the high bank (about two hundred feet from the 
level of the stream), and that passengers were let down b}'' 
ropes in a car upon a sloping rail. Dreading to tumble down 
the incline, and meeting with no living creature to appeal to 
for aid or information, I made my way back to the "Claren- 
don" — the cheapest and most uncomfortable of all American 
hotels ; got more than anklc-decp in mire ; met several pigs 
and one passenger ; and, for that evening, left the falls unvis- 
ited. But I fell asleep with their mighty music ringing in 
my ears, and next morning was more than repaid for my dis- 
appointments by the sight of Niagara in all its glory. 



CHAPTER Vin. 

I^IAGARA, 

No description that I had read of Niagai-a — whether writ- 
ten by poet, romance-writer, geologist, or mere tourist and 
traveler — conveyed to my mind any adequate idea of the real- 
ity. I had formed a Niagara in my mind, but it was another 
and a very diftei-ent Niagara from that Avhich my senses dis- 
closed to me — immensely higher, more noisy and more con- 
fused, and lacking the majestic regularity, order, and calm 
though stupendous power of the actual torrent which my eyes 
beheld. I was prepared to be astonished at its grandeur and 
magnificence; but my feelings in gazing upon it, day after day 
and evening after evening, were not so much those of aston- 
ishment as of an overpowering sense of law, mingled with a de- 



•s NIAGARA. 53 

licious pleasure, that filled my whole being, and made my brain 
dizzy with delight. That I may not be accused of an attempt 
at fine Avriting in my description of this Avondrous waterfall, I 
shall exhaust all my adjectives at once. Having poured out 
my praises in one gush, I shall relapse into the soberest de- 
scription I can command of what I saw, and endeavor to pre- 
sent an unimpassioned narrative of its effects upon my mind. 
Any enthusiastic traveler, deeply impressed with the grace, the 
loveliness, and the sublimity of such a scene, will speedily 
reach the limit of his vocabulary. To himself, or, better still, 
to some congenial companion of either sex, he can but repeat 
the old and well-worn epithets, grand, beautiful, stupendous, 
awful, majestic, and magnificent. This done, he must, if he 
still feel, resort to silence, as more demonstrative than speech. 
There are no more adjectives which he can use ; but he feels 
that there is an infinitude of uninvented words in the depths 
of his consciousness which, if he could but drag them into 
being, would serve to explain to others how keenly the spirit- 
ual beauty of Nature had wrought itself into the spiritual 
nature of man, and into every sense of his physical and ma- 
terial existence. But, as these words can not be uttered, 
silence is the best relief and the only alternative. An English 
lady emphatically declared Niagara to be " sweetly pretty !" 
and an American lady declared it to be " handsome !" Pos- 
sibly the fair speakers exhausted in these epithets the whole 
wealth of their admix*ation ; and yet, faulty as their language 
was, they might have as thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of tlie 
cataract, and been as deeply impressed with its majesty, as 
travelers who made use of a more appropriate jjhraseology. 
There are minds which feel so acutely the overpowering love- 
liness of nature, and the imbecility of any language to express 
their sympathies and emotions, even the richest that ever grew 
and germinated into logic or poetry, that their enforced dumb- 
ness becomes ultimately so painful as to disturb the fine bal- 
ances of Reason, and put the harp of Imagination out of tune. 
The well-known lines of Byron express tliis instinctive emo- 
tion, when, speaking of another fall, less glorious than Niag- 
ara, he says, 



54 LIFE AISTD LIBERTY IX AMERICA. 

"One can't gaze a minute 
Without an awful wish to phmge within it." 

Niagara has this fascination about it in a very high degree. 
The beautiful boa constrictor, glaring with its bright and 
deadly eyes at a rabbit or a bird, has a similar power ; and 
the poor little quadruped or biped, fascinated, beAvildered, un- 
done, and wrought into a plu'ensy by the overwhelming gla- 
mour of the snake, rushes deliriously into perdition. Thus 
Niagara bewilders the senses of the too passionate admirers 
of its beauty. IMany are the tragical stories which arc re- 
counted of the fair girls, the young brides, and the poetic souls 
who have thrown themselves into the torrent for the speech- 
less love they bore it, and lloattd into death on its tcrriiic but 
beautiful bosom. 

Before shifting my quarters from the desolate hostelry of 
the Clarendon at the City of the Falls, and repairing to the 
excellent accommodation of the Monteagle House, two miles 
distant, near the Suspension Bridge, I sallied out at dawn of 
day to the ferry, and was rowed across the Niagara Eiver, 
about half a mile below the falls. From this point, amid the 
comparative quiet of the waters, the first glimpse of Niag^ara 
conveyed a feeling that partook of disappointment. I had ex- 
pected the falls to be much higher ; and if the Avater had 
poured from a precipice a thousand feet above me, I should 
not, perhaps, have considered that the guide-book makers and 
the tourists had led me to expect too much. The eye was 
unfamiliar with the distance and with the grandeur of the sux*- 
rounding objects ; and, as the result of my experience, I ad- 
vise the traveler not to take his first \-iew of Niagara in this 
manner. The majesty is too far off to be appreciated. There 
is no measurement within reach by Avhich tlie size can be 
tested ; and the noblest waterfall in the Avorld suggests a weir 
— no doubt above tlie average size of weirs, but a weir never- 
theless. The eye too often makes fools of our other senses, 
until it is taught to know its own littleness and imperfection, 
and to be humble accordingly. In the summer season a little 
steam-boat, appropriately named the Maid of the Mist, runs up 
into the very spray of the cataract. From its deck a magnifi- 



NIAGARA. 55 

cent spectacle is doubtless to be obtained ; but at the time of 
my visit this vessel had long ceased its excursions, and was 
safely moored for the winter at " Biddle Stairs." There were 
no tourists, and even the guides had taken tlieir departure. 
No lingering remnant of that troublesome confraternity lay in 
wait for a stray traveler like myself, to tire his patience, dis- 
encumber him of his loose casli, and mar the whole effect of 
the scenery by his parrot-like repetition of the old story, from 
which all soul, freshness, and meaning had departed. Thus I 
had Niagara all to myself. It was my own dominion ; and I 
ruled over it unadvised, untroubled, and undirected. I dis- 
covered its beauties gradually as best I could, and made my 
way from place to place with as much of the true spirit of dis- 
covery and adventure latent and stirred within me as moved 
the first white man who ever gazed upon its marvels ; and, 
instead of narrating how and in what way I saw them, let me, 
for the benefit of any future travelers who may read these 
lines, explain in what sequences of grandeur and beauty they 
should explore the stupendous scenery of the river, the islands, 
and the falls, so as to reach the climax where the climax should 
be naturally expected, and to go on, from good to better, and 
from better to best, in one grand and harmonious crescendo, 
and thus extract from it a music of the mind sufficient to 
make even the sublimest harmonies of Beethoven appear tame 
and commonplace. 

Proceeding first to the narrow and apparently frail bridge 
which connects the main land of the village, or " City," for- 
merly called Manchester, with Bath Island, and thence with 
Goat Island — lovely enough to deserve a more beautiful name 
— the mind of the traveler Avill be impressed with a spectacle 
which to me, unprepared for it, seemed as grand as Niagara 
itself. Here is to be obtained the first glimpse of the rapids 
ere the whole overflow of the great lakes — Superior, Michi- 
gan, Huron, and Erie, covering a superficies of no less than 
150,000 square miles — a space large enough to contain En- 
gland, Scotland, and Ireland, with room to spare — discharge 
themselves over the precipice into the lower level of Lake On- 
tario. In a distance of three quarters of a mile the Niagara 



66 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

River gallops clown an incline of fifty-one feet. Such a bub- 
bling, boiling, frothing, foaming, raging, and roaring as occur 
in that magnificent panorama it was never before my good 
fortune to see or hear. Were there nothing but the sight of 
these rapids to repay the traveler for his pains, it would be 
worth all the time and cost of the voyage across the Atlantic. 
It was like looking up a mountain of furious water to stand 
upon the bridge and gaze toward the torrent. I will not call 
it angry, though that is the epithet which first suggests itself. 
Anger is something sharp and short, but this eternal thunder 
is the voice of a willing obedience to unalterable law. There 
is no caprice or rage about it ; nothing but the triumphant 
song of gravitation, that law of laws, which maintains the 
earth in perpetual harmony with heaven. On the side of 
the " City" were several mills for flour, corn, and paper, 
which had borrowed an exterior thread from the mighty web 
of Avatcrs to help in performing the operations of human in- 
dustry. But these scai'cely marred the effect of the scene, 
and were to some extent useful in aifording a contrast of the 
littleness of man with the incfi^iible greatness of Nature. The 
builders of the bridge, taking advantage of the havoc made by 
the Avaters in days gone by — perhaps five hundred thousand 
years ago — supported it partially on a great rock lifting its 
head a few feet above the foam; standing at this point, I 
counted the islets scattered on either side, and stretching 
downward to the very brink of the fall. Besides Goat Island, 
about a mile in circumference, which separates the American 
from the Canadian fall, I made out nineteen isles and islets ; 
some no larger than a dining-table, others twenty or a hund- 
red times as large, and several of them supporting but a sin- 
gle tree, and others two or three trees, blooming and flourish- 
ing amid the war of water?, and suggesting to the inipracticed 
eye a fear that every moment Avould be the last both of them 
and their vegetation. 

There is a toll of twenty-five cents for passing over this 
bridge to Goat Island ; but the toll once paid frees the trav- 
eler for a year. It is calculated that forty thousand persons 
pass annually, yielding a handsome revenue to Mr. Porter, 



NIAGARA. , 57 

the proprietor of the island. The father or grandfather of 
this gentleman, a surveyor, is said to have procured Goat Isl- 
and from the State of New York in part payment of his bill 
for surveying the ra|1ids and their neighborhood. The In- 
dian Emporium, purporting to be kept by the descendants of 
the famous "Black Hawk," was still open on the occasion of 
my visit ; and the fans, the moccasins, the purses, and all the 
little knick-knacks which the Indians manufacture of moose 
skins, beads, and birch bark, were spread out for sale. Plav- 
ing paid tribute here, I passed on to the wilderness. Though 
Goat Island is laid out into carriage-drives and by-paths, it 
exists otherwise in a state of nature. The trees are unpruned 
forest-trees, though marked occasionally by the busy knives 
of the ubiquitous Joneses and Smiths, who, though transplant- 
ed to new soil, are as deeply imbued with the traditional fail- 
ing of their British ancestors for carving or scrawling their 
inillustrious names on trees and public monuments as their 
kindred in the " old country." In this lovely spot the under- 
growth of fei'n and brushwood is wild and luxuriant in the 
extreme. The beauty and variety of the island surpass, I 
should think, that of any island in the world ; although, when 
contemplating the turbulence around, and the debris of past 
convulsions which strew the run of the river above and be- 
low, it is difficult to avoid a feeling that ere long Goat Island 
will be entirely swept away, or scattered into fragments at the 
foot of the falls. 

To the left, down a little by-path, there is a small cataract, 
perhaps about ten feet in width, separated by huge boulder 
stones from the main current, which, if it existed in Great 
Britain or in any other part of Europe, would attract admir- 
ing crowds from all quarters to behold it, but which here 
dwuidles into comparative insignificance amid the mightier 
marvels that surround it. Lodore among the English lakes, 
and Foyers in Inverness-shire, beautiful and even sublime as 
they may be, are but as ribbons to this. And this itself is 
but as a ribbon compared with Niagara. 

The next point is the American Fall, roaring down into 
the abyss, one hundred and sixty feet below, in one immense 

C2 



58 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

sheet of slaty-green water. Beautiful exceedingly! Vcdi 
Napoli € ]7oi inori ! say the Italians ; but to see this fall is to 
reach a higher climax : and — if Death be agreeable — to have 
a greater motive for confessing that Life has nothing grander 
to show. The traveler can approach to the very brink of the 
fall, and, if he pleases, dabble his feet in it without danger ; 
but let him wade two or three feet only, and he is gone — 
down ! doAvn ! like a speck, into Death and Eternity ! Look- 
ing over the avalanche of Avaters, where they roll smoothly 
and irresistibly as Fate, I beheld a couple of hawks or other 
birds of prey hovering half way down, fishing for the dead or 
stupefied fish that are hurled through the boiling spray. Far- 
ther doA\Tii the Niagara stream — white as cream at the foot 
of the precipice, but half a mile below as tranquil apparently 
as if nothing had happened — is seen, at a distance of two 
miles, the noble Suspension Bridge. Over its airy and seem- 
ingly perilous fabric passes the railway that connects the New 
York Central Railway, by the Great Western Eailway of 
Canada, with Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and the " Far 
West." 

And now for the culminating point — at Prospect Tower, 
forty-five feet high, and built on the very edge of Goat Island 
between the two falls. From the top of this edifice, amid the 
"hell of waters," is to be obtained the most magnificent view 
of the whole scenery of Niagara, above and below, and down 
the arrowy deeps of the ever-boiling caldron. 

The Great Canadian or Horseshoe Fall is in reality Ni- 
agara itself. The American Fall, stupendous as it is, must 
be considered no more than an oflTshoot from the main cata- 
ract. " Oh, that Great Britain and the United States would 
go to war!" said an enthusiastic American; "and that the 
United States might gain the day ! We would stipulate for 
the annexation of the Great Horseshoe Fall as a sine qua non 
of peace, and after that Ave would be friends fore\'er!" And 
no wonder that the Americans so Ioac it, for the Horseshoe 
Fall is alike the greatest marvel and the principal beauty of 
the New World. Here, at all events, man and his works are 
impotent to mar or diminish the magnificence of nature. No 



NIAGARA. 69 

wheels of mills or factories can be set in motion by a cataract 
like this. It would dash into instant ruin the proudest pyr- 
amid, palace, te'mple, or manufactory that imperial man ever 
erected since the world began. He who would utilize such a 
flood must be as cautious as a homoeopathist. To use more 
than an infinitesimal portion of its exuberant strength would be 
to court and to meet annihilation. The mass of water pours 
over the rocks in one lucent and unbroken depth of upward of 
twenty feet ; for although no magician and no plummet has ever 
sounded the dread profundity, even within a mile of the final 
leap, a condemned lake stcamei-, the Detroit, drawing eighteen 
feet of water, Avas carried over the falls as lightly as a cork. 
She never touched the rocks with her keel until she was pre- 
cipitated, still shapely and beautiful, a hundred and fifty feet 
below, and then down, down, no one knows, or ever will know, 
how many fathoms, into a lower deep scooped out by the in- 
cessant action of the ftdls in the very boAvels of the earth, to 
reappear, a few minutes afterward, a chaotic and unconnected 
mass of beams, spars, and floating timber. 

It is a long time before the finite senses of any human be- 
ing can grasp the full glory of this spectacle. I can not say 
that I ever reached a satisfactory comprehension of it. I only 
know that I gazed sorrowfully, and yet glad, and that I un- 
derstood thoroughly what was meant by the ancient phrase 
of " spell-bound ;" that I knew what fascination, witchcraft, 
and glamour were ; and that I made full allowances for the 
madness of any poor, weak, excited human creature who, in a 
moment of impulse or phrensy, had thrown him or herself 
headlong into that too beautiful and too entrancing abyss. 

When the first sensations of mingled awe and delight have 
been somewhat dulled by familiarity with the monotonous 
majesty, so suggestive of infinite power, and so like an em- 
blem of eternity — though impossible for man's art to picture 
it under such a symbol — the eye takes pleasure in looking 
into the minutias of the flood. The deep slaty-green color of 
the river, curdled by the impetus of the flxll into masses of 
exquisite whiteness, is the first peculiarity tliat excites atten- 
tion. Then the shapes assumed by the rushing waters — 



60 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

shapes continually varying as each separate pulsation of the 
rapids above produces a new embodiment in the descending 
stream — charm the eye with fresh wonder. Sometimes an 
avalanche of water, striking on a partially hidden shelf or rock 
halfway down the precipice, makes a globular and mound-like 
surge of spray ; and, immediately afterward, a similar doAvn- 
flow, beating on the very same point, is thrown upward, al- 
most to the level of the Upper Niagara, in one long, white, 
and perpendicular column. Gently, yet majestically, it reaches 
the lower level by its own independent impetus, without be- 
ing beholden to the gravity of the sympathetic stream from 
which it has been so rudely dissevered. And then the rain- 
bows ! No pen can do justice to their number and their 
loveliness. No simile but the exquisite one of Byron at the 
Italian waterflill, which, compared Avith Niagara, is but a blade 
of grass to some oaken monarch of the woods, can adequately 
render the idea of any spectator who has a soul for natural 
beauty as he gazes on the unpai'alleled spectacle of such an 
Iris as it was my good fortvine to behold : 

"Love watching Madness with unalterable mien!" 
But the sensations of one man are not the sensations of 
another. To one, Niagara breathes turbulence and unrest; 
to another it whispers peace and hope. To one it speaks of 
Eternity ; to another merely of Time. To the geologist it 
opens up the vista of millions of years ; while to him who 
knows nothing of, or cares nothing for, the marvels of that 
science, it but sings in the wilderness a new song by a juvenile 
orator only six thousand years old. But to me, if I can epit- 
omize my feelings in four words, Niagara spoke joy, peace, 
order, and eternity. To other minds — dull, prosaic, and 
money-grubbing — Niagara is but a great v\-ater-power gone 
to waste, and not to be compared, in grandeur of conception 
or execution, to the Suspension Bridge that crosses the river 
two miles below. " Niagara is a handsome thing," said a 
guest at the Monteagle House to his neighbor; "but what is 
it to the bridge ? The bridge ! Avhy, I hold that to be the 
finest thing in all God's imiverse !" It was no engineer who 
spake thus, but a man from a dry-goods store in Chicago, 



NIAGARA. 61 

and doubtless a very worthy man too ; though, if I could 
have had my will of him, he never should have had a vote for 
Congress, for the election of President, or even for the nom- 
ination of mayor or sheriff of Chicago. I would have inflicted 
summary justice upon him, and in the very scene and moment 
of his offense deprive him forever of all the rights of citizen- 
ship. 

It was in ti-aversing the ferry from time to time, and enter- 
ing into conversation with the ferryman and the chance pas- 
sengers in his boat, that I learned the minute and, to me, in- 
teresting particulars of what may be called the private history 
and romance of the falls. Many were the sad stories told of 
wobegone and desperate creatures who had chosen the terrific 
platform of the Horseshoe Fall, or of the Tower at Goat Isl- 
and, as the scenes of their violent exit from a world Avhich 
they fancied had used them ungratefully ; of young brides who 
had come thither to rush out of an existence where they had 
staked all on the chance of domestic happiness and gained 
nothing but broken hearts ; of young men and of old men 
(but never of old women), sick of the world, and of all its 
pleasures and sorrows, who had here taken the fearful leap 
from Time into Eternity. And how is it, O learned doctors 
of lunacy and mania, that old men commit suicide so fre- 
quently, and old women so seldom ? Many, too, Avere the 
stories told of Indians and others who, sailing peaceably and 
incautiously in their canoes or boats from Erie to Chippewa, 
had been sucked into the irresistible current and precipitated 
in the sight of agonized spectators into the abyss below. The 
ferryman did not personally remember the catastrophe of the 
Caroline steamer cut adrift by the gallant Colonel (now Sir 
Allan) M'Nab in the Canadian rebellion, and sent blazing over 
the falls ; but the incident will long be told in Canadian story 
and the annals of border warfare. The ferryman stated, as 
the result of his experience and that of all his predecessors, 
that the dead bodies washed ashore in the vicinity of the 
ferry-house were always found in a state of nudity, and that 
he never heard of an instance in which a corpse had been re- 
covered with the slightest shred or vestige of a garment ad- 



62 Life and liberty in ameeica. 

hering to it. One tragedy was fresh in his recollection — that 
of a young man who, about five months before the period of 
my visit, had called for and drunk oiF at a draught a bottle 
of Champagne at the Clifton Hotel, then engaged and paid 
for a carriage to drive him to the Table Kock, and, in sight 
of the driver and of other people who never suspected his in- 
tent, had proceeded from the carriage to the edge of the Great 
Fall, coolly walked into deep water, and been washed over 
the precipice before even a voice could be raised to express 
the horror of the by-standers. His body was not found until 
several days afterward, perfectly nude — Niagara having, ac- 
cording to its wont, stripped him of all his valuables as Avell 
as of his life, and cast him upon mother earth as naked as he 
was at the moment he came into it. Many also, according to 
the ferr}''man, were the waifs and strays that fell to his share 
in his lonely vocation — large fish drawn into the current and 
precipitated over the falls, quite dead ; aquatic fowl, skimming 
too near the surface of the rapids in search of prey, and caught 
by the descending waters ; and logs of timber, and fragments 
of canoes and other small craft, which he collected on the 
shore to make his Christmas fire, and help to keep a merry 
blaze in the long and severe winters of the climate. Niagara, 
according to the testimony of all who dwell near it, is never 
more beautiful than in the cold midwinter, when no tourists 
visit it, and Avhen the sides of the chasm are corrugated and 
adorned Avith pillars aud stalactites of silvery frost, and Avhen 
huge blocks of ice from Lake Erie, weighing hundreds of tons, 
are hurled down the rapids and over the falls as if they were 
of no greater specific gravity than feathers or human bodice', 
to reappear half a mile lower down the river, shivered into 
millions of fragments. It is a tradition of Niagara that, in 
1822 or 1823, such a thick wall of ice was formed above 
Goat Island that no water flowed past for several hours, and 
that in the interval the precipice at the Horseshoe Fall was 
perfectly bare and dry. A picture of the scene, painted at 
the time, is still in existence. What a pity that no goologii^t 
or poet was present and that we have not his report upon the 
appearance of the rocks over which tumbles the eternal cat- 



NIAGARA. 63 

aract, that never, perhaps, at any previous period unveiled its 
flinty bosom to the gaze of the petty pigmies who Avander on 
its shores, and call thetaselves the lords of the creation. 

But a small portion of the once widely-projecting Table 
Rock is now in existence, the remainder having suddenly 
given way four or five years ago. It seems to have been loos- 
ened in some of its internal crevices by the action of the frost. 
A horse and gig had been standing on the projection less than 
a minute before the rock gave way, and the action of their re- 
moval was perhaps the immediate cause of the catastrophe. 
But sufficient of the rock still remains to afford a footing 
whence a fine view of the whole panorama of the falls is 
attainable. 

In consequence of the absence of guides, and, indeed, of 
every person from whom I could obtain information, I did not 
penetrate, as I might have done, behind the Horseshoe Fall. 
The mighty cascade, in pouring over the precipice its ninety 
millions of gallons of water per hour, curves outward, and 
leaves behind it a chamber which daring travelers, determined 
to see every thing, make it a point to visit. The feat is both 
painful and dangerous, and was not to be thought of by a sol- 
itary wayfarer like myself. " It may be supposed," says a 
well-known American writer who achieved it, " that every 
person who has been dragged through the column of water 
which obstructs the entrance to the cavern behind the cata- 
ract has a pretty correct idea of the pains of drowning. It is 
difficult enough to breathe, but with a little self-control and 
management the nostrils may be guarded from the watery 
particles in the atmosphere, and then an impression is made 
upon the mind by the extraordinary pavilion above and 
around which never loses its vividness. The natural bend of 
the cataract and the backward shelve of the precipice form an 
immense area like the interior of a tent, but so pervaded by 
discharges of mist and spray that it is impossible to see far 
inward. Outward -the light struggles brokenly through the 
crystal wall of the cataract, and, when the sun shines directly 
on its face, it is a scene of unimaginable glory. The footir.g 
is rather unsteadfast — a i-niall shelf, composed of loose and 



64 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

slippery stones, and the abyss -boiling below, like — it is dif- 
licult to lind a comparison. On the -whole, the undertaking 
is rather pleasanter to remember than fo achieve." 

For many days I lingered in the purlieus of Kiagara. I 
often Avalked from the Suspension Bridge along the Canadian 
shore, getting at every turn a new glimpse of loveliness ; and 
on other occasions have sat for hours on Prospect Tower, with 
no companions but a favorite book and the eternal music of 
the falls. In storm, in shine, in moonlight, and in mist — in 
all weathers and at all hours — I have feasted on the beauty 
mul tranquillity of the scene ; for, as soon as the eai' becomes 
accustomed to the roar of the waters, they descend with a 
lidling and soothing sound. And when I was compelled to 
take my farewell look and travel to new regions, I repeated 
to myself, neither for the first nor the last time, "I have 
lived, and loved, and seen Niagara." 



CHAPTER IX. 



NEWrOKT AXD KIIODE ISLAND. 



November 22, 1S57. 
The governors of the several states of the Union have 
some, but not much patronage. That their salaries are far 
from considerable may be inferred from the fact that one es- 
timable gentleman of my acquaintance, who rules over a ter- 
ritory as large, and much more fertile than England, enjoys 
the not very munificent allowance of SloOO, or about £300 
per annum, to support his dignity ; but they have the power 
of life and death, or, rather, the privilege to commute the 
pxmishment of death into imprisonment for life or for a term 
of years ; and they liave the quasi imperial or royal right to 
open the session of the Legislature by speech or address, and 
in some states, but not in all, to bring the session to a preraa- 
ture close. In the early times of the republic, the governors 
of the states thought it necessary to surround themselves with 
more splendor and ceremonial. John Hancock, the first gov- 



NEWPORT AND RHODE ISLAND. 65 

crnor of Massachusetts after the Revolution, rode nbout Bos- 
ton in a gilt coach with four horses. A Loyalist paper, pub- 
lished in New York a year prior to the recognition of Amer- 
ican independence, stated of Hancock that he appeared in pub- 
lic "with all the pageantry of an Oriental prince; and thus 
he rode in an elegant carriage, attended by four servants, 
dressed in superb liveries, mounted on fine horses richly ca- 
parisoned, and escorted by fifty horsemen with drawn sabres, 
the one half of Avhom preceded and the other half followed his 
carriage." But things have greatly changed since that day. 
The present Governor of Massachusetts, a very eloquent and 
able man, formerly a working blacksmith, Avho was lately 
Speaker of the House of Kepresentatives, and is now an aspir- 
ant for the presidency, walks to the State House when he 
has to deliver a message to the Legislature, and boards at the 
public hotel, having no house of his own in the capital of the 
commonwealth of which he is the chief magistrate. The same 
simplicity prevails elsewhere. Among the few privileges not 
already mentioned which the governors still enjoy in New 
England and New York, and perhaps farther south, is that 
of appointing, by their sole authority, a day of general thanks- 
giving or of humiliation. Thanksgiving-day is generally fixed 
in November, and corresponds in its festive character to the 
celebration of Christmas in England. The people shut up 
their stores and places of business ; go to church, chapel, or 
conventicle in the forenoon or afternoon, or both, and devote 
the remainder of the day to such social pleasure and jollity as 
the custom of the place may sanction. The dinner, at which 
the 2'>icce de rigueur is roast turkey, is the great event of the 
day. As roast beef and plum pudding are upon Christmas- 
day in Old England, so is turkey upon Thanksgiving-day 
among the descendants of the Puritans in New England. 
Yesterday was Thanksgiving-day at Newport, in the little 
but prosperous CommouAvealth of Rhode Island — the small- 
est state in the Union, but not the least proud or wealthy. 
To borrow a description from the old popular ballad, "Amer- 
ican Taxation," written by a New England patriot in 
17G5: 



6Q LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

"It is a wealthy people 

Who sojourn in this land ; 
Their churches all with steeples 

Most delicately stand ; 
Their houses like the gilly 

Are painted white and gay : 
They flourish like the lily 

In North Americay. 

" On turkeys, fowls, and fishes 

Host frequently they dine ; 
With well-replenished dishes 

Their tables always shine. 
They crown their feasts with butter. 

They eat, and rise to pray ; 
In silks their ladies flutter, 

In North Americay." 

Business, and not pleasure, brought me to Rhode Island, 
and to the fashionable, but at this season deserted watering- 
place of Newport. This elegant little town, or " city," is of 
easy access from New York or Boston, and during the sum- 
mer months is crowded with visitors from all parts of the 
Union ; and where — strange anomaly in a country said to be 
so strict and prudish — the ladies and gentlemen bathe togeth- 
er, " the ladies," according to the unimpeachable authority of 
Belle Brittan, " swimming about in Avhite trowsers and red 
frocks — a costume gayer than the chorus of an Italian opera," 
and the gentlemen, according to another authority, in a cos- 
tume almost as decent, though by no means so picturesque. 
But the pleasure hotels were all shut up, and no place open 
but the excellent Aquidneck House, sufficiently large to ac- 
commodate all, and fifty times more than all, the travelers 
who at that season were likely to come to Newport on busi- 
ness. NcAvport consists principally of one long street on the 
shore of Narragansett Bay, and has an air of greater antiqui- 
ty than is common among the towns of New England. It is 
a clean, white, quaint, and agreeable place ; but during the 
bathing season all its life and bustle are transferred to the 
other side of the narrow island on which the town is built, 
and to the western shores of the bay, known as the fii'st, sec- 
ond, and third beaches. 



NEWPORT AND RHODE ISLAND. 67 

Newport is a place of historical note, having been held by 
the British forces during the Eevolution, and almost destroyed 
by them before the independence of the United States was of- 
ficially recognized. They are said to have burned 480 houses, 
to have battered down the light-house, broken up the wharves, 
used the churches for riding-schools, and cut down all the 
fruit and ornamental trees before taking their departure ; and 
by these, and the other more legitimate consequences of the 
warlike occupation of the place, to have reduced the popula- 
tion from 12,000 to 4000. But, if these barbarities were 
really committed, there seem to remain no traces of animosity 
on the part of the present generation, and to be an English- 
man is a passport to the kind ofRces of the principal inhabit- 
ants. An attempt to release Newport from British occupa- 
tion was made in 1778, imder the combined forces of Count 
L'Estaing, the French admiral, and General Sullivan, the 
United States commander, in Avhich expedition Governor 
Hancock, of Massachusetts, and General Lafayette command- 
ed divisions. The attempt was unsuccessful ; and was com- 
memorated in a Loyalist ballad of the day, to the air of 
" Yankee Doodle :" 

"'Begar!' said Monsieur, ' one grand coup 
You bicntot shall behold, sir:' 
This was believed as gospel true, 
And Jonathan felt bold, sir. 

" So Yankee Doodle did forget 

The sound of British drum, sir — 
How oft it made him quake and sweat. 
In spite of Yankee rum, sir. 

"He took his wallet on his back. 
His rifle on his shoulder, 
And vowed Rhode Island to attafk 
Before he was much older." 

There is an old building at Newport, which stands in the 
public square in the upper town, of which the origin and the 
objects have excited considerable controversy. By some it is 
alleged to have been erected by the Norsemen in their pre- 
Columbite discovery of America, and by others it is alleged 
to be merely an old stone mill. But, as architectural antiqui- 



C8 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

ties in any part of the American continent north of Mexico 
ai'C utterly miknoAvn or non-existing, it may be supposed that 
strenuous battle is done on behalf of the theory that this build- 
ing is the remnant of a Norse to"sver, and that the supporters 
of the mill theory and of its modern erection receive but small 
toleration at the hands of the people of Newport. Professor 
Eafn, under date of 1839, affirms that the building was erect- 
ed at a period decidedly not later than the 12th centuiy, as 
there is no mistaking the style, which is that of the round- 
m-ch style ; the same which in England is denominated Sax- 
on, and sometimes Norman architecture. It is upon a legend 
brought into connection with this ruin that Longfellow has 
founded his poem of the " Skeleton in Armor." 

Among the pleasanter memories that attach to Nc'n'port is 
one which affirms that in a cottage near the second beach, be- 
yond a place called Purgatory, Bishop Berkeley Avrote several 
of the works which have handed his name down to posterity. 

Though I had no opportunity to visit Providence, the cap- 
ital, or any of the other cities of Rhode Island, that small re- 
public has so interesting a history, both past and pi'csent. as 
to demand not only a record from the pen, but the sympa- 
thetic appreciation of every passing stranger who has any 
thing to say about the ^' cosas Americanas." It is distinguish- 
ed, in the first place, as the smallest of the thirty-two states 
of the Union, being only about forty-seven miles long by thir- 
ty-seven broad. Though for the most part continental, it de- 
rives its name from the little island in Nai'ragansett Bay on 
which NcAvport is built, and contains a population of less than 
150,000 souls. Its second and more admirable claim to dis- 
tinction arises from the fact that, while its people govern them- 
selves at somewhat less than one dollar per head per annum, 
they pay nearly twice as much for public education as for all 
the other expenses of the state. The governor's salary is 
81000 (£200) per annum; the civil, military, and miscella- 
neous expenses are $50,000 (.£10,000): Avhile the direct 
grant from the state for educational purposes is $35,000 
(£7000), and the local expenses for the same object ai*e 
$50,000 (£10,000) more— or, m all, $85,000. Where is the 



NEWPORT AND RHODE ISLAND. 69 

other state, great or small, upon the globe, that can glorify 
itself by such a fact as this "? And, in the last place, Rhode 
Island may lay greater claim to being the cradle of religious 
liberty than any republic, kingdom, or empire in tlic Avoi'ld. 

The early Pux-itans and Pilgrim Fathers, who shook the 
dust of England from the soles of their feet, and sailed across 
the Atlantic to find a spot where, they might worship God in 
their own way, without molestation from the strong arm of 
secular authority, did not always mete out to others the meas- 
ure which they insisted upon for themselves. The Puritan set- 
tlers in Massachusetts became as intolerant of others, when 
settled in their new homes, as the religious oppressors in En- 
gland from whose oppression they had escaped, and decreed the 
penalties of fine, imprisonment, and even death against all who 
Avould not conform to the observances and the doctrine of that 
sectarianism which they arrogantly considered as containing 
the whole and only truth of God. Among other stanch and 
uncompromising men to whom this Puritan intolerance was 
intolerable was Roger Williams, who boldly proclaimed in 
Massachusetts, to the scandal and alarm of the magistracy, 
that conscience was free, and that in a Christian and a free 
state no man ought to be troubled or called to account for his 
religious opinions, whatever they might be. This was too 
bold for Massachusetts, and too wicked, in the opinion of the 
ruling classes, to be endured. Williams was warned of the 
danger of persisting in preaching such doctrines, but he would 
not flinch frg^m his principles ; and, ultimately, after a series 
of sufferings in the wilderness, the histoiy of which has lately 
been given to the world, he fled from the inhospitable soil in 
a canoe, with five companions, to seek amid the kinder sav- 
ages a few acres of land to cultivate, and a corner of the earth 
where he might pray to God in his own fashion. Sailing and 
rowing on this forlorn expedition, he arrived after many days 
at a little arm of the sea stretching inward from the Bay of 
Narragansett. Here he saw an Indian standing upon a rock, 
who made friendly gestures, and called to him in English, 
"What cheer*?" The Avords seemed of good omen; Roger 
Williams landed ; was kindly received by the chiefs ; fixed his 



70 LIFE ASD LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

abode on the ailjoining land ; received a large grant of terri- 
tory, and gave it the name of Providence. Close to the spot 
where he landed is the site of the city of the same name, and 
capital of Rhode Island. In the course of time, other men 
and women flying from persecution, and being invited by "Wil- 
liams to join him in what ho called his ** place of shelter for 
persons distressed for conscience," gathered about him in con- 
siderable numbers. To the most able and enterprising of 
these Williams freely g-ave portions of the land which he had 
received from the Indians, and the colony increased and pros- 
pered. The words, "What cheer?'' were adopted as the 
motto of the state thus singularly formed; and in 1644 Wil- 
liams proceeded to England, and procured a charter from King 
Charles I., constituting his settlements into a colony under 
the style and title of the '' Plantations of Providence and 
Ehode Island." This charter requiring amendment and ex- 
tension, Williams, then a venerable old man, paid a second 
visit to England in 1663, and obtained a new charter from 
Charles II. By this charter the citizens were eiiipowered to 
elect their o^^^l governor — a gi'eater degi'ce of liberty than 
was accorded in those days to iNIassachusetts and other states, 
Avhose governors were appointed by the crown. Thanks to 
such men as Eoger Williams, and to such also as William Penn 
in Pennsylvania, and Lord 15altiniore in jMaryland — though 
the last two did not sutler in the cause as Williams did — ab- 
solute religious toleration has become the law of the whole 
American Union ; and Puritanism, while retaining its other 
features, has ceased to persecute. It is said that no stone or, 
memorial marks the spot whore this ])atriot of liberty is buried. 
Memorials and monuments of Washington are to be found 
every where ; but surely Khode Island, and the friends of re- 
ligious freedom in America, owe it to themselves to do honor 
to the dust of one quite as worthy of honor, in his own way, 
as Washington himself. 



rHILABELPHlA. 71 



CHAPTER X. 



PUILADELVIIIA. 



riiiladclphia, Dec. 19, 1857. 

Keturning from the beautiful Niagara to Boston, and from 
Boston to New York, I thence proceeded to Philadelphia, the 
ca})ital of Pennsylvania, the " Keystone State." Pennsylvania 
derives tliis title as being the "keystone" of American liberty, 
and the scene of the ever-memorable Declaration of Independ- 
ence. The point of departure from New York is at Jersey 
City, over the Hudson or North River Ferry, and the point of 
arrival is at Camden, on the River Delaware, exactly opposite 
to the city of the Quakers, to whicli the passLMigers are con- 
veyed by one of the monster steam ferry-boats common in all 
the rivers of the Union. The road passes the whole way 
through the flat alluvial districts of New Jersey — a state 
which the New Yorkers declare to stand in the same anoma- 
lous relation to the Union as that occupied by the town of 
15erwick-upon-Tweed to the kingdoms of Great Britain and 
Ireland. But New Jersey can afford to despise the joke, if 
joke it be ; for, though one of the smallest, it is one of the 
most pi'osperous states of the Republic. 

Philadelphia, eighty-seven miles by rail from New York, is 
the second city of the Union, with a population of about 
500,000 souls. It stands upon a level with the waters of the 
Delaware, and does not possess within its whole boundaries a 
natural eminence one third of the height of Ludgate Hill. It 
contains a large number of churches and chapels, but none of 
them is distinguished for architectural beauty of dome, tower, 
or spire. The whole place is formal, precise, and unattract- 
ive, leaving no impression upon the mind of the traveler but 
that of a weary sameness and provoking rcctangularity. Ex- 
cept in Chestnut Street (the centre of business) and "Walnut 
Street (the fashionable quarter), all the streets of the ci<.y arc 



72 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

built on the same model. The same third-rate houses — of 
the kind which the Englishman sees in Birmingham and Man- 
chester — seem to rise on every side, all of one color and of one 
shape ; all with green Venetian blinds on the upper, and with 
white blinds on the lower stories ; all equally prim, dull, and 
respectable. The foot-pavements arc of the same color as the 
houses, neither drab nor red, but a mixture of both, suggestive 
of the story of the English Quaker of the old school, to Avhom, 
as he sat behind liis desk at his Avarehouse in Manchester, was 
delivered a packet, with a bill requesting payment. The old 
Quaker opened the packet, and found a red hunting-coat. 

"What is this?" he said to the messenger. "There is a 
mistake here, fi'iend." 

" No," said the messenger ; " 'tis a coat for Mr. Thomas." 

"Thomas," said the father to the young Quaker, who had 
become smitten Avith an unquakerly passion for hunting, " is 
this for thee ?" 

" Yea, father," replied the sou. 

"And what is it?" rejoined the sire. 

*" A coat," replied the son. 

" Yea, Thomas ; but what color is it?" 

" Why," said Thomas, somewliat bewildered, and scratch- 
ing his head to expedite the delivery of the tardy answer, 
" it's a kind of fiery drab." 

Such is the color of Philadelphia — the Quaker city, the 
city of Brotherly Love, or, according to the disparaging asser- 
tion of New Yorkers, the city of "brotherly love and riots." 
It is fiery drab wherever you turn — fiery drab houses, fierj' 
di'ab pavements, fiery drab chapels, and fiery drab churches. 
One peculiarity of Philadelphia, in addition to the unvarying 
rectangularity of its streets, is, that the carriage-ways are al- 
ways dirty and the foot-ways always clean. Nobody purifies, 
or cares to purify, the carriage-road, but eveiy body seems to 
be bent upon cleaning the fiery' drab pavements. Morning, 
noon, and night the Avork of abhition goes on. Negro men 
and Avomen, Avith a fair admixture of Irish female " helps," 
arc continually squirting Avatcr over the pavements from gut- 
ta-percha tubes, and tAA'irling the moisture from their ever- 



PHILADELPHIA. 73 

busy mops over the lowei* garments of tlie wayfarers, till the 
streets run with watet. The passing vehicles continually 
churn up the mud, and the road is never allowed to dry, un- 
less under the irresistible compulsion of the thermometer be- 
low zero. 

The population of Philadelphia is not so largely imbued 
with the Quaker element as might be supposed from its his- 
toiy and origin. Though William Penn was its founder, and 
is, to some extent, its patron saint, the co-religionists of Wil- 
liam Penn, so far from being in the majority, do not number 
above 30,000 out of 500,000 inhabitants. Scotchmen and 
descendants of Scotchmen are numerous ; Irish and descend- 
ants of Irish are also numerous ; and Germans and descend- 
ants of Germans more numerous still. To the Germans, 
Philadelphia owes the establishment within the last five years 
of several extensive breweries, and the introduction to every 
part of the Union of a taste for " lager hier" an excellent bev- 
erage well suited to the climate, and resembling the Bavarian 
beer of Europe, though by no means so strong or so aromatic 
as the lager bier of Vienna, from which it derives its name. 
Prior to the introduction of this novelty, beer was very little 
in America. English porter, stout, and ale, besides being ex- 
orbitantly dear, were not well suited to the climate, but /a^e?- 
bier supplied the very article required. It was exactly to the 
taste of the Germans, and from them a love of it has gradu- 
ally extended to all sections and races of the American peo- 
ple. The rich consume oysters and Champagne ; the poorer 
classes consume oysters and lager bier, and that is one of the 
principal social differences between the two sections of the 
community. If Messrs. Bass or Allsopp ever had a chance 
of extending their trade into America, the lager bier breweries 
of Philadelphia have seriously diminished it. What Ameri- 
can will give thirty-seven cents (eighteen pence English) for a 
pint of English pale ale or porter, when he can procure a pint 
of home-brewed lager for five cents'? 

There are some fine stores, banks, and warehouses in 
Chestnut Street, and some showy buildings of granite and 
white marble in course of construction. There are also some 

D 



74 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEEICA. 

superior private houses of marble and granite in "Walnut 
Street. It is one of the peculiarities of Philadelphia that the 
door-steps of eveiy house that has any pretensions to style are 
of white marble. At this season, however, the white marble 
of the door-steps is covered up Avith wood, and workmen are 
busily employed in the principal thoroughfares in incasing the 
steps in planks of deal in preparation for the frost ; they would 
otherwise be so slippery as to be dangerous to life and limb ; 
so that the luxuriousness of a Philadelphian door-step is some- 
what like that of a " dress poker" in England — something for 
show rather than for use. 

There are but two public buildings in the city Avhich will 
repay the visit of any traveler who is pressed for time, and 
these are the State House, or Independence Hall, in Chestnut 
Street — the most venerable and the most venerated building 
in America — and the Girard College, at the outskirts of the 
town. No stranger should omit visiting them both. The 
State House is illustrious as the place where the first Ameri- 
can Congress held its sittings, and where, on the ever-memor- 
able 4th of July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was 
adopted, and read to the assembled people, and publicly pro- 
claimed from the steps fronting the street. The building has 
been jealously preserved as it stood in that day, and the room 
in which the solemn conclave was held — now called the Hall 
of Independence — is adorned with the same internal fittings 
and decorations as on the day that made America a free and 
great nation. Cold is the heart, and stagnant the fancy and 
imagination of any man, whatever his nation or habits of 
thought, who can stand unmoved in this simple chamber, or 
be unimpressed by the noble thoughts and generous aspira- 
tions which its history excites. On eveiy side are relics of 
the great departed — portraits of the high-souled and fearless 
men who atfixed their signatures to the document which sev- 
ered their connection with the country of their birth and their 
ancestors. These men loved the old countr}^ as a true son 
loves the unjust and hard-hearted father in spite of his injus- 
tice and obstinacy, and with the yearning hope, strong as na- 
ture itself, that the father will relent, or, if he do not relent, 



PHILADELPHIA. 75 

acknowledge that age has its faults as well as youth, and that 
the duty of age is to be tolerant and forgiving. They entered 
upon a career which, when they began it, was rebellion, but 
which afterward became revolution, with many forebodings, 
and Avith a deep, earnest, religious sense of the responsibility 
they had undertaken. Among other relics of the time and 
the men arc the walking-stick of Washington and the writ- 
ing-table of Benjamin Franklin. The table has a ticket upon 
it announcing it for sale, upon the condition that the purchaser 
do not remove the relic from Philadelphia, and that he allow 
the public to have access to it at stated times. The price is 
only 120 dollars, about £24 sterling; but the city of Phila- 
delphia, according to the janitor of the hall, is too poor to pur- 
chase it, being deeply involved in debt, without a cent which 
it can fairly call its own. Another relic, still moi-c interest- 
ing than either of these, is . the great bell, which, on the 4th 
of July, 177G, rang to the people the joyous tidings of the 
Declaration of Independence, and which now bears, and bore 
long before its sonorous voice was called into requisition on 
that august occasion, the prophetic inscription, '■'■Proclaim lib- 
erty throng Jiout the lands, and to all the peoj)les thereof." This 
bell, a sacred one to all Americans, is now past service ; and 
having been accidentally cracked some years ago — like Big 
Ben of Westminster — was removed from the belfry to the 
hall, where it now stands surmounted by a stuffed eagle. 
Either the eagle is too small for the bell, or the bell is too 
large for the eagle — a disparity which strikes all visitors. 
On mentioning my impression to the janitor, he admitted the 
fact, and stated that last year an American gentleman, who 
entertained the same idea, sent him a splendid eagle, nearly 
three times as large as the actual occupant of the place of 
honor. Unfortunately, however, the big eagle had but one 
wing; and, as a disabled eagle upon a cracked bell would 
have afforded but too many opportunities to the gibers of gibes 
and the jokers of jokes, the gift was respectfully declined, and 
the little eagle, strong, compact, and without a flaw, holds his 
seat upon the relic, until some more ponderous and unexcep- 
tional bird shall be permitted to dethrone liim. 



76 LIFE AXD LIBERTY IJST AMERICA. 

The Girard College is a noble building of white marble — 
beyond all comparison the finest public monument on the 
North American continent. It is built on the model of a 
Gi'ecian temple of the Corinthian order ; is 218 feet long, IGO 
broad, and 97 high, and closely resembles the beautiful Town- 
hall of Birmingham, the great difference between the two be- 
ing the dazzling whiteness and more costly material of the 
rhiladelphian edilice. The grounds of the main building and 
its four contiguous halls cover forty-five acres. Stephen Gi- 
rard, the founder, originally a poor French emigrant, came to 
Philadelphia at ten years of age, without a penny or a friend, 
and, as a merchant and banker in the city of his adoption, ac- 
cumulated a fortune of upward of six millions of dollars, the 
greater portion of which he bequeathed to the college which 
bears his name. The college and grounds cost two millions 
of dollars, or £400,000 sterling, and their endowment about 
as much more. The institution is for the support and educa- 
tion of orphan boys, such as Girard himself was when he first 
came to Philadelphia. The peculiarity of the institution is 
that no religious doctrine whatever is permitted to be taught 
within its walls. The Bible, without comment, is read night 
and morning to the boys ; but such a dislike had the founder 
to priests and clergymen of all denominations, that no minis- 
ter of religion is permitted even to enter within the walls of 
the college. The question is put to all visitors whether they 
are clergymen ; and, if the reply be in the affirmative, they 
arc refused admittance. Upon these, as well as upon the per- 
sonal grounds of their own disinheritance, the will was con- 
tested by the numerous relations of Girai'd. The poor boy 
had no relations and no fi-iends when he came to Philadelphia, 
but France produced a whole colony of relatives before and 
after his death. But in all countries rich men have more 
cousins than they arc aware of. After a long course of liti- 
gation, the sanity of the testator, as well as the morality of 
the will, was established by the courts, and upward of three 
hundred boys are now receiving within the walls of the col- 
lege a plain education to fit them for the duties of life. In 
the entrance-hall is a fine marble statue of Stephen Gii-ai'd, 



WASHINGTON. 77 

surmounting a sarcophagus contaiiiiiig lils remains — for it was 
another command in his will that he should not be buried in 
consecrated gi'ound. In an upper chamber of the building are 
preserved his household furniture, his day-books and ledgers, 
his china, his pictures, and his wearing apparel. Among the 
latter is a pair of blue velvet knee-breeches which he wore at 
the time of his death — very threadbare and shabby — and 
adorned with several patches far more substantial than the 
garment whose deficiencies they attempted to hide. 



CIIArTER XI. 

WASHINGTON. 

Washington, Jan. 11, 1858. 

Washington, the official and political capital of the United 
States, is beautifully situated on the Potomac, a wide but not 
deep river, at a distance of upward of 250 miles from the 
ocean. It is 226 miles from New York, 13G from Philadel- 
phia, and 40 from Baltimore, and contains a population of up- 
ward of C0,000 souls, of whoni 8000 are free blacks, and 2000 
slaves. The city is laid out into wide streets and avenues — 
wider than Portland Place in London, or Sackville Street in 
Dublin. The avenues, as the principal thoroughfares are call- 
ed, radiate from the Capitol, or Palace of the Legislature, as 
their centre, and are named after the thirteen original States 
of the Federation. Pennsylvania Avenue, leading direct from 
the Capitol to the White House, or mansion of the President, 
is about a mile in length, and of a noble Avidth, but contains 
few buildings of a magnitude commensurate with its own pro- 
portions. The houses on each side are for the most part of 
third-rate size and construction, and, in consequence of the 
spaciousness of the roadway, look even meaner and smaller 
than they are. 

Washington, with a somewhat unsavory addition, which it 
would otfend polite ears to repeat, was called by a late cele- 
l)rated senator the " city of magnificent distances," and Avell 
justifies the title. On every side the distances stretch out in 



78 LIFE AND LIBERTY IX AMEEICA. 

apparently intormiuablo linos, !>uggejiting to the stranger who 
Avalks throngli the city at night, when the gas lamps show 
their fairy radiance at long intervals, a population of at least 
a million of souls. But at daylight the illusion vanishes. 
The marks of good intention and noble design are evexy where 
apparent, but those of fuliillment are nowhere to be found. 
All is inchoate, straggling, confused, heterogeneous, and in- 
complete. In the same street are to be found a splendid mar- 
ble edifice of a magnitude such as would make it the orna- 
ment of any capital in the world, while opposite and on each 
side of it are low brick houses, crazy wooden sheds, and filthy 
pig-sties, suggestive of the Milesian clement in the population. 
Such a street is F Street, in which the Patent-office is situ- 
ated, and such streets are H and I Streets, where many of the 
diplomatic corps and the fashion of Washington have taken up 
their residence. And here it may be mentioned that the 
founders of the city seem to have exhausted their inventive 
ingenuity when they named the principal sti'eets after the 
States of the Union. Having taxed their imagination to tliis 
extent, or having no imagination at all, thoy resorted to the 
letters of the alphabet as a mode of nomenclature. "\Mien 
they had exhausted these — an easy matter in a growing city 
— they brought arithmetic to the rescue of their poverty, as 
was done in New York, Philadelphia, and other cities. Thus, 
in receiving cards and returning visits, the stranger may not 
nnfrequentlv find that he has been called upon by ]Mr. Jones, 
of No. 90 Ninety-ninth Street, or must nsit jNIr. BroAAni, at 
No. 3 Third Street, or ]Mr. Smith at No. 22 TSventv-second 
Street. The system has its advantages, no doubt, but is some- 
Avhat stitl' and mathematical, and ignores a veiy cheap but 
very eftective mode of rendering honor to the great men of the 
countiy, living or dead — the giving of their names to th^ pub- 
lic thoroughfares. If Washington gave his name to the city, 
why should not the names of other great Americans l>e given 
to its streets ? 

Besides its noble Capitol, with its towering dome, Washing- 
ton possesses many elegant public buildings, such as the White 
House, or executive mansion, the Treasury buildings, the 



'i^i; 







'il'iilllriL %.. 

ill \''i 



1 ' m 



WASTTINGTON. 81 

Pntont-ofTico, and the rosl-oirico. AVcrc thcso ccllfioos, whii-h 
jirc luosdy of white iiiarbh', concentrated, us they nui;lit and 
ought to have been, in the <<Teat avtcry of Pennsylvania Av- 
enue, instead of being scattered over vurious portions of the 
city, Washington might have possessed at least one sti'eet to 
rival or surpass the Kuc de Kivoli in Paris. But the oppor- 
tunity has been lost, and can never again recur. Still, it is 
impossible not to believe that Wttshington will yet become one 
of the most splendid cities on this continent. It has all the 
elements of beauty as well as of greatness, both in itself and 
its immediate cuAirons ; and when it becomes as poi)nl()us as 
New York, Avhich it is likely to be in loss than tifty years, un- 
less the seat of government be transferred in the interval to 
some such place iis St. Louis, nearer to the centre of the rc- 
pid)lic, the inferior buildings that line its spacious streets will 
disappear, and its *' magniliccnt distances" will be adorned 
with an architecture worthy of the capital of fifty, perhaps of 
a hundred, young and vigorous republics. 

The site of Washington was chosen by George Washington 
himself, who laid the corner-stone of the Capitol on the 18th 
of September, 1793. At that time, and for some years after- 
ward, tlie sittings of the Legislature Averc held in Independ- 
ence Hall, Philadelphia. The city stands in the District of 
Columbia, in territory ceded for the purpose by the Conunon- 
wealth of Virginia and IMarylaud, and covers an area of sixty 
square miles. Originally its measure was one hundred scpiare 
miles ; but in 18 Ki, forty square miles Avcre restored to the 
Commonwealth. The design as well as the location of the 
city is due to the genius of Washington, under whose direc- 
tions the plans were executed by iVIajor L'Enfant. The limits 
extend from northwest to southeast about four miles and a 
half, and from cast to southwest about two miles and a half. 
The circumference of the city is fourteen miles, and the aggre- 
gate length of the streets is computed at 199 miles, and of the 
avenues sixty-five miles. The average width of the principal 
thoroughfares is from seventy to one hundred and ten feet. 

The original Capitol was so nmcli damageil by the British 
invading force in the unfortunate war of 1814, that in the 

r>2 



82 LIFE AXD LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

following voar it wa? found noccssaiy to reconstruct it. In 
1828 it was outirely repaired; and in 1851. being found in- 
sufficient for the increasing business of the nation, it was de- 
termined to add two wings to it, which are at the pi-esent 
lime in process of construction, together with a new and lofty 
dome of iron, from the plans and under the superintendence 
of Captain IMeigs, the architect. The Capitol contains the 
halls or chambere of the Senate and the House of Represent- 
atives. The former numbei's 64. and the latter about 250 
members. It also contains the hall of the Supreme Court, 
where nine judges, robed, but not bewigged — and the only 
functionaries, except those of the lu-my and navy, who Avear 
an official costume — sit to administer justice, and to control 
.Hud regulate the whole action of the government, in a manner 
quite unknown to the Constitution of Great Britain. The 
Capitol is built of white marble, and gleams in the sunshine 
of this beautiful climate in a manner trying to the eyes of an 
Englishman accustomed to the mm-ky sombi-encss of the public 
monuments of London. 

The White House, or President's mansion, is of freestone, 
painted white in imitation of marble. It is a plain but ele- 
gant building, befitting the unpi-etending dignity of the popular 
chief magisti-ate of a country where government is minimized, 
and where the trappings and paraphernalia of state and office 
ai-e unknoA\ni or uucongonial. Heix? the President — a man 
who possesses, during his term of office, a far greater amount 
of power and patronage than the sovei-eign of any state in 
Europe, except the Emperoi-s of France. Russia, and Austria 
— transacts, without any unnecessary forms, and with no for- 
mality or ceremony at all, the business of his great and grow- 
ing dominion. Here he i-eceives, at stated da\-s and periods, 
ladies or gentlemen who choose to call upon him. cither for 
business or pleasure, or from meiv curiosity. Here he shakes 
hands with the courtly and urlvuie embass;ulors of European 
powers, or with the veriest "rowdies" from New York, or 
'• plug-uglies" from Baltimore, who cither liave, or fmicy they 
have, business- with him. and that, too, without the necessity 
of a pei-sonal introduction. There is no man in the United 



T^^AsnusrcxTON. 80 

States who lias such a quantity of hand-sliaking to get tlirough 
as the President. Tlirougliont tlie whole country, every body 
shakes hands with every body else, though the ladies are far 
more chary of the privilege than the ruder sex. If the gen- 
tlemen would but shake hands less, and the ladies would 
shake hands a little more, America would be perfectly de- 
lightful to the man of many friends and acquaintances. Per- 
haps the President, if not a happier, would be a better satis- 
lied chief magistrate. 

Washington has no trade or commerce of its own, and is 
deserted for nearly half the year. It therefore presents a 
giTater number of the characteristics of a fashionable water- 
ing-place that of a capital city. But, as the country increases 
in wealth and population, Washington will increase with it, 
and will gi-adually lose the provincial appearance which it 
now presents, and assume the completeness to Avhich its posi- 
tion as the seat of the Legislature and of all the departments 
of government entitle it. Never was there a place in which 
office-hunters and place-seekers more assiduously congregate. 
The ante-chambers of the President are daily thronged with 
policitants — with men who think they helped to make the 
President, and who are consequently of opinion that the Pres- 
ident should help to make them. I thought, when presented 
to INIr. Buchanan, that he seemed relieved to find that I was 
an Englishman, and had nothing to ask him for — no little 
place for self, or cousin, or friend, or son, for which to beg 
his all-powerful patronage. " Gentlemen," he said, when the 
crowd was ushered pell-mell into his pi'esence, without the 
intervention of any stick (gold or silver) in waiting, " I must 
take you by the miller's rule — first come first served. Have 
the goodness to state your business as shortly as possible, as I 
hare much to do and little time to do it in." And so the 
crowd passed up, each man sliaking hands with the chief 
magistrate, and I'eceiving a polite, and, in many instances, 
a cordial reception. Whether they received any thing else 
at that or at any future time, or whether they still linger 
on, feeding upon hopes deferred, which make the heart 
sick, is best kno^vn to themselves ; but I saw enough to 



84 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

convince mc lliat it is not an easy thing to be a popnlar 
President. 

I passed New Year's day at "Washington, and snch a day I 
never passed before, or wish to pass again. With two gen- 
erals and a colonel — one of the generals a member of Con- 
gress for the city of New York, and the other an ex-member, 
and the Avhole three excellent, amiable, and accomplished gen- 
tlemen, and having nothing military about them but their ti- 
tles — I was engaged from daylight till ten o'clock at night in a 
constant whirl and chase of visiting and card-leaving. En- 
gaging a hack carriage for the day for some exorbitant sum — 
five, if not ten times the usual charge — we sallied forth, each 
armed with at least a couple of hundred cards, and drove to 
leave them at the places where etiquette and custom demand- 
ed. Let me attempt to give the list. First, there was the 
President — upon whom and his fair niece every body in Wash- 
ington mado it his or her business to call, from the embassa- 
dors of foreign powers down to the book-keepers and clerks 
at the hotels, and the very rowdies of the streets. Next there 
were the foreign ministers, whose ladies remained at home for 
the especial purpose ; then came the married members of tlie 
government, and the members of Congress, all of whom ex- 
pected to receive the homage and the good wishes of their 
friends on New Year's day; and, lastly, every married lady 
in Washington with whom one had ever exchanged a word 
or made an obeisance to. At nearly all of these places — with 
the sole exception of the President's house — the visitor was 
expected to partake of refreshments, or to pretend to do so. 
But my companions, being old stagers at the business, re- 
served themselves for the best places, and only on three oc- 
casions on that memorable day did our eating or drinking 
amount to more than the veriest and most barefaced sham. 
Washington was one scene of huriy-scurry from morning to 
night, and the penance done by the fair ladies in receiving 
such miscellaneous crowds must have been sorely trying to 
their physical if not to their mental comfort. But they bore 
it with good-humor ; and, if I had not had other reasons to 
carry away a vivid recollection of the beauty, grace, elegance. 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. 87 

and unaffected amiability of the ladies of America, the ex- 
perience of that day of toil would have been more than suffi- 
cient to justify such a remembrance in the case of the ladies 
of Washington. 



CHAPTER XII. 

INTERVIEW OP INDIANS WITH THEIR " GREAT FATHER.' 

Washington, Jan. U, 1858. 
I WAS present a few days ago at a great ceremonial inter- 
view between the President of the United States and delega- 
tions from three tribes of Indians — the Poncas, the Pawnees, 
and the Pottawatomies. Each delegation was totally uncon- 
nected with the other, and the Pawnees and Poncas were an- 
cient and hereditary foes ; but, being in the presence of their 
"Great Father," as they termed the President, they looked 
upon each other with as much polite unconcern as the same 
number of civilized " swells," not formally introduced, might 
have displayed at a fashionable assembly in London or Paris. 
They did not appear to think of each other, but of their " Great 
Father," the splendor of his mansion, and the business which 
had brought some of them two thousand miles from their wil- 
derness to the head-quarters of American civilization. The 
interview was highly picturesque; and, although in some re- 
spects it might seem to the careless observer to partake of 
the ludicrous, its predominant character was that of pathos, if 
not of solemnity. On one side was Civilization, represented 
by the venerable and urbane President, "with his head as white 
as snow," and surrounded by his secretaries and chiefs of de- 
partments, by the beauty and fashion of "Washington, by sen- 
ators and members of the House of Representatives, and by 
the ministers of foreign powers. On the other side was Bar- 
barism, represented by the hostile tribes in their wild and 
sti'iking costume — their red and blue blankets wrapped closely 
around them ; their long, straight black locks stuck full of 
eagle plumes, bound together by uncouth head-gear of all 
shapes, and colors, and modes of manufacture ; their ears laden 



88 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

and overladen with ponderous rings ; their necks adorned with 
necklaces of bears' claws, artistically wrought together ; their 
breasts and shoulders with the scalps which they had taken 
from then* enemies ; their hands gi-asping the spear, the tom- 
ahawk, and the war-club ; and theii- faces, and sometimes their 
hair, daubed over with masses of red, blue, green, and yellow 
paint, disposed in ftmtastic forms and patterns in accordance 
with the rules of the only heraldry — for such it is — to which 
they are accustomed, and as much subject to law and ordi- 
nance of hereditary descent as the heraldry of the griffins, boars' 
heads, lions rampant and couchant, bloody hands, and other 
insignia of the heralds' colleges of Europe. 

The interview took place by appointment in the gi'cat or 
cast room of the presidential mansion. By eleven o'clock a 
considerable number of spectators had assembled, and at half 
past eleven the Indians made their appearance, each delegation 
being accompanied by its interpreter. The Pawnees, sixteen 
in number, were first in the order of entrance — a fine body of 
men, some of them naked to the waist, and some wearing buf- 
falo robes or blankets, and all of them adorned with the full 
paraphernalia of paint and feathers which the red men like to 
display on great and solemn occasions. They were preceded 
by a little white lady of twelve or thirteen years of age, the 
daushter of an American gentleman who had charae of the 
delegation on behalf of the government. The Indians had 
adopted tliis little girl as the daughter of their tribe. A sort 
o^Jille du regiment, she seemed quite proud of her position as 
the pet of the savages, and accompanied them as part of the 
show in all then* public appearances. INIany remarks were 
made by the white spectators on the theatrical natm-e or bad 
taste of this display, not on the part of the Indians, but on 
that of the living parents of this child. Had she been a found- 
ling of the forest, the case would have had its noble and touch- 
ing aspects ; but at her age, with a living father able to take 
care of her, the propriety of this companionship was held to 
be more than questionable. Next to the Pawnees followed 
the Poncas, six in number, similarly accoutred and bedizened 
— fine, stalwart, but melancholy men, -n-ith a dignity impressed 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. 89 

on their features and gleaming from their eyes which even the 
grotesque eccentricities of I'cd and blue paint were unable to 
impair. These, also, were accompanied by an interpreter — a 
border trader of European blood, who had picked up their 
language in a long career of commercial intercourse, perhaps 
m the exchange of fire-water for the spoils of the chase, or in 
other bargains as little to the advantage of the simple red men. 
Last of all came the Pottawatomies, nine in number, dressed 
in shabby European costume. This tribe claims to be wholly 
or half civilized ; but they seem to have received nothing from 
civilization but its vices and defects, and to have lost the 
manly bearing, the stoical dignity, and the serene self-posses- 
sion, as well as the costume and habits of other Indian tribes. 
They afforded a very marked contrast to the Pawnees and 
Poncas. They had an air of cunning, servility, and meanness 
in every lineament of their countenances and motion of their 
bodies, as well defined and unmistakable as the seedy shabbi- 
ness and awkwardness of their costume. A little red and 
blue paint would have added a positive grace to their sallow, 
baboon-like faces, would have made them look real instead of 
unreal, and shown them to be the savages which they actually 
were. These poor Pottawatomies were somewhat out of fa- 
vor. They had a special grievance and wrong to detail to 
the President ; but, having chosen to come to Washington 
without the permission of the ofiicial agent charged with the 
administration of Indian affairs, they were there at their own 
cost and risk. Not so the Pawnees and Poncas, who had 
been specially invited by the proper authorities, and whose 
expenses were paid by the government from the day they had 
left their own hunting-grounds, and would be paid back to 
their own homes in the same way, after they had seen all the 
sights and partaken of all the gayeties of the capital. 

At twelve o'clock precisely the President entei'cd the east 
room and took his position in the centre of a square, of which 
the Indians formed three sides and the spectators the fourth. 
The Indians, who till this time had been silent and wondering 
f-pectators of the rich carpet, the curtained windows, and gild- 
ed cornices of the reception-room — no doubt the most magnif- 



90 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

icent specimens of the white man's wealth, power, and inge- 
nuity which their eyes had till that moment beheld — turnet 
their looks to the President, but made no motion or gesture, 
and uttered no sound expressive either of their curiosity oi 
the respect which they evidently felt. The President's head 
leans slightly on his shoulder, and this little defect, added to 
his kindliness of expression and his venerable white hair, gives 
liini the appearance of still greater benignity, and as if he 
Avere bending his head purposely to listen to the complaints, 
the requests, or the felicitations of those who have occasion 
to address him. The four chiefs of the Pawnees and the 
twelve men of the tribe were severally introduced. The Pres- 
ident cordially shook hands with them, looking all the time as 
if he really felt that paternal interest in their character Avhich 
his position commanded, but which he was not able to express 
to them in their own language. There was one Indian of this 
tribe — a short but well-formed man, about fifty years of age, 
and deeply pitted with the small-pox, who wore human scalps 
after the flishion of epaulets, besides a whole breast-plate of 
such ghastly adornments, and held in his hand a ■\A'ar-club 
thickly studded with brass nails, who was introduced by the 
interpreter as the bravest of his people — the " plus brave des 
braves," the IMarshal Ney of his race — who had taken more 
scalps than any living Indian. Upon this individual the 
President seemed to look with more than common interest. 
Indeed, the eyes of all present were directed toward this re- 
doubtable chief; but there was nothing forbidding or ferocious 
in his appearance. His face and bearing exjiressed stoical en- 
durance and resolute self-reliance, but neither cruelty nor cun- 
ninof. The Poncas and their chief went through the same 
ceremony, and met the same reception ; and even the imbid- 
den Pottawatomies were welcomed by their " Great Father" 
as kindly as if they had been regularly invited to his presence, 
Mr. Buchanan all the while Avearing that good-humored smile 
Avhich seems natural to him. It was obvious that he was 
quite as much interested in his red children as they Avere in 
their white father, a feeling that none could help sharing aa'Iio 
AA'as a witness of the scene. 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. 91 

The presentations over, the President made a short speech, 
welcoming the Indians to Washington, expressing his readiness 
to hear whatever they might have to say, and redress any real 
gi'ievances of which they might have to complain, if they came 
within the scope of the government to redress, and were not 
solely due to their own faults and mismanagement. This 
being three times translated by the three several interpreters — 
for no one of the tribes understood the language of the other 
— each tribe signified its approval : the Poncas by an emphatic 
guttural sound not unlike the peculiar " Oich ! oich!" of the 
Highlanders of Scotland, the Pawnees by the exclamation of 
" Lowar !" and the Pottawatomies by a short " Ugh ! ugh !" 

And now began the speech-making in reply to the Pres- 
ident's invitation. The four chiefs of the Pawnees, one chief 
of the Poncas, and one of the Pottawatomies, expressed in suc- 
cession the object of their journey to Washington. The Paw- 
nees had come to ratify a treaty already made with the gov- 
ernment, to see their " Great Father," to learn from him how 
to grow rich like white men, and no longer to be " poor." 
The Poncas had come to make a treaty for the sale of their 
lands in Nebraska, to look with their own eyes upon their 
" Great Father," whom they judged by the splendor around 
him to be rich, and to be visibly favored by the " Great 
Spirit." The Pottawatomies had come unbidden to request 
that an allowance, paid to them semi-annually by treaty, 
should be paid annually, to save trouble. All the spokesmen 
dwelt upon their poverty and wretchedness. Some of them 
held up their arms and exposed their bosoms to shoAV that 
they were naked. They wanted to be taught how to be rich ; 
to earn, like the white man, the favor of the Great Spirit, and 
no longer to be poor. Poverty — extreme poverty — was the 
key-note of their lamentations, the mournful burden of their 
whole song. " We are," said one of them, looking right into 
the eye of the President, and approaching so near that his 
breath must have felt warm on ]\Ir. Buchanan's cheek as he 
spoke, " the children of the Great Spirit as much as you are. 
We have traveled a long distance to see you. At first we trav- 
eled slowly. At every place we stopped Ave expected to find 



92 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

you. We inquired of the people, and they told us you were a 
long way off. We have found you at last, and we are glad. 
We see by these things" (pointing to the gilded walls, to the 
carpets, and the curtains) " that you are rich. We were rich 
in the days that are past. We were once the favorites of the 
Great Spirit. The very ground on which we now stand" 
(and the orator, for such he was, stamped significantly with 
his feet upon the carpet as he spoke) " once belonged to our 
fathers. Now we are poor — we are veiy poor. We have 
nothins: to shelter us from the cold. We are driven from our 
possessions ; and we are hungry. We have come to you to 
help us. The Great Spirit, through the mouth of the ' Great 
Father,' will speak to us, and tell us what we are to do. Let 
us be rich, like the white man, and be poor no longer." 

Such was their melancholy and invariable supplication. At 
every repetition of the word " poor" — ^when translated in the 
hardest, coldest, boldest manner by the interpreters — there was 
a laugh among a portion of the Avhite spectators, who should 
have known better — a laugh that seemed to me grievously out 
of place, and which somewhat perplexed the poor Indians, as 
was evident by the surprise expressed upon their faces. To 
them their poverty was no laughing matter. They had come 
to Washington purposely to speak of it. In their simplicity 
of heart, they believed that the President had it in his power 
to remove it, and they had lost faith in their own customs, 
manners, and modes of life, to keep them on a level with the 
white men ; and why should they be laughed at ? The Pres- 
ident gave them excellent advice. He told them that they 
always would be poor as long as they subsisted by the chase ; 
that the way to be wealthy was to imitate the industry of the 
white men — to plow the land, to learn the arts of the black- 
smith, the carpenter, the builder, and the miller ; and, above 
all things, to cease their constant wars upon each other. " I 
learn," he added, "that the Pawnees and Poncas now present 
are deadly enemies. It is my wish, and that of the Great 
Spirit who implanted it in my breast, that they should be en- 
emies no more ; that, in my presence, they should shake hands 
in token of peace and friendship." This was explained to 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. 93 

them by the interpreters. The enemies made no sign of as- 
sent or dissent beyond the usual guttural expression of their 
satisftiction. "I wish," said the President, "to join your 
hands together, and tiiat the peace between you should Ijc per- 
petual." The chiefs of the hostile tribes advanced, and shook 
liands, first with the President, and then with each other. 
One man only gave the left hand to his former enemy; but 
this was explained by the interpreter, who stated that the 
right hand was withheld by the Pawnee because it had slain 
the brother of the Ponca, but that the new friendship between 
the two would be equally as sacred as if the right hand had 
affirmed it. 

" Will they keep the peace ■?" inquired a gentleman of the 
President. 

" I firmly believe they will," replied Mr. Buchanan. " A 
peace ratified in the presence of the ' Great Father' is more 
than usually sacred." And in this opinion he was corrobo- 
rated by each of the three interpreters. 

And so ended the ceremony. I have seen much of the In- 
dians during my stay in Washington — seen them at the the- 
atre, looking intently and inquiiingly at the pirouettes of 
Signora Teresa RoUa, a celebrated claiisense now here — seen 
them in the streets and thoroughfares looking vacantly around 
them, and seen them at the Arsenal, recei\ ing from the hands 
of General Floyd, the Secretary at War, the rifles and the 
muskets which are given to them as presents by the govern- 
ment before they return to the wilderness. On each occasion 
I have been much impressed with the native dignity and in- 
telligence of these poor people. But their doom is fixed. 
Between them and the whites there is no possible fraterniza- 
tion. The white men who act as the pioneers of civilization, 
and push their way into the far wilderness, are ruder, rougher, 
and more ferocious than the Indians. Between them there is 
constant animosity ; and the red men, being the weaker of the 
two, stand no chance with their white assailants, who shoot 
them ruthlessly down for small offenses, punish slight robbery 
with death, and bring whisky and rum to the service of de- 
struction when readier means arc found to be unattainable. 



O-l LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

The red men arc fast disappearing: only 314,622 of them, 
little more than half the number of the population of Phila- 
delphia, remain in the territories of the United States ; and 
these are rapidly diminishing from small-pox, internecine war, 
and the rifles and the whisky-bottles of the whites : 

" Slowly and sadly tlicy climb the western mountains, 
And read thoir doom in the departing sun." 

In Mexico and in South America they still thrive, or in- 
crease, and amalgamate and intermarry with the European 
races ; but in the United States and Canada, where the An- 
glo-Saxon race predominates, they Avill in a few years disap- 
pear altogether from the land Avhich was once their own, and 
leave no trace behind them but the names of a few rivers 
and moitntaiiis, and here and there of a state that takes an 
Indian appellation in defaidt of an Anglo-Saxon one — such as 
Minnesota, Iowa, Kansas, Wisconsin, and Michigan. Their 
fate is inevitable, but is none the less sad. The ancient Brit- 
ons survive in their progeny, but the aborigines of North Amer- 
ica are dying out, and their blood will form no portion of that 
great republic Avhich is so rapidly rising to overshadow the 
world. 

During the stay of the Indians at Washington, public noti- 
fication was made by bills and placards, and privately to the 
keepers of the hotels and spirit-shops, that no intoxicating liq- 
uors should be served to them, and that gentlemen would re- 
frain from treating them. The notification was doubtless very 
necessary. In company Avith Mr. Charles Lanman, of George- 
town, I paid the Poncas and the Pawnees a visit at their ho- 
tels. I was received on both occasions with much courtesy, 
the chiefs presenting their hands in American fashion, and 
shaking mine very heartily. They seemed to pass their time 
in smoking, playing cards, or mending their Icggins and moc- 
casins. Wa-ga-suppe, or the Wkip, the Ponca chief, gave us 
some particulars of his life, which were translated to us by 
the interpreter. 

He said he was born on Middle Kiver, in the Territory of 
Nebraska, and was about fifty-six years of age. " The fii'st 
creatui'^ he killed, when a mere child, was a gi'ound squirrel, 



INTEKVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. Co 

and he had killed, since that time, at least ten thousand buf- 
faloes. He always aimed at the heart ; frequently one arrow 
caused death, but he had often sent ten arrows into a buifalo 
without killing him. He had sometimes sent an arrow right 
through a buffalo's neck. He once killed a perfectly white 
buffalo, and never saw but this one. He always hunted these 
animals on horseback. Once he and another man went after 
the same animal, because it was large and fat. He was ahead, 
but his companion shot and wounded the animal ; he was an- 
gry, and in his desperation took out his knife, and while on 
the run seized the animal's horns and cut its throat. On an- 
other occasion he had a horse killed under him by an angry 
bull, the body of the horse having been ripped open by one 
horn, while the other went through his OAvn leg. At another 
time, when pursuing a buffalo toward a deep river, where the 
bank vrds twenty feet high and abrupt, the buffalo made a sud- 
den turn, and at the very instant that he shot an arrow — 
which killed it — the horse which he rode, alarmed by the buf- 
falo's roar, leaped into the river and Avas droAvned. He him- 
self was not injured." 

But his exploits as a hunter were surpassed by his deeds as 
a horse-thief. The people whom he chiefly robbed of their 
horses were Pawnees and Comanches. " He had traveled a 
thousand miles upon one of these expeditions — been gone a 
hundred and twenty days, and captured or stolen six hundred 
horses. He never sold a horse, but always made it a point to 
give them to the poor, the old, and the feeble of his tribe. It 
was his cunning in stealing horses, and his liberality in giving 
them away, that caused him to be elected chief. He and his 
party once traveled five hundred miles simply for the purpose 
of stealing a spotted horse of which he had heard, and he got 
the prize. He had had five wives : one died, he abandoned 
three for their infidelity, and one he still cherished. He had 
been the father of eleven children. The prairie Avas his home. 
The summer lodges of his tribe are made of buffalo skins ; 
those which they inhabit in the winter are made of turf. He 
had never been sick a day. He had never been afraid to risk 
his life, but always disliked to kill human beings. He had 



96 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

never killed but one man, and the circumstances were these : 
he had been four days without food on a horse-stealing expe- 
dition when he came to a deserted Pawnee village. He was 
disgusted, and hunger filled him with hate and revenge. At 
that moment he discovered a solitary Pawnee approaching the 
village. He shot him down, and, after scalping him and 
breaking his neck, out of piu'e wickedness, he left him thus 
exposed, by way of letting the Pawnees know, on their return, 
that he had been there." 

On questioning him about his ideas of a future state, he 
said that he expected to go, after death, to the white man's 
heaven. " There was but one heaven for all men." 

The I'awnee chief, whom we visited at another part of the 
city, said his name was Ne-sliaro-lad-a-hoo, or the Big Chief. 
"He did not know Avhere he was bom, but it was somewhere 
in the Territory of Kansas. He was about sixty years old. 
He had never been much of a hunter : his people called him 
too lazy and fat for a huntsman. He claimed to be very 
brave, however, and had devoted his Avhole life to horse-steal- 
ing ; had been twelve days without food, and the illness which 
followed that abstinence was very severe ; he was delirious 
with hunger, and that was the only time he had known Avhat 
it was to be sick. " He had been the husband of four women, 
and the best of them all was one he had stolen. , He had 
taken four scalps during his life. He once entered a Mexican 
encampment at night when all were asleep, and, 'just for the 
fun of it,' walked entirely through, and carried off thirty 
horses." "Wlien asked what he would have done if he had 
been discovered, he said, " he would have put an arrow into 
every eye that opened." One of the scalps he had taken be- 
longed to a Ponca, and the only brother of the man he had 
killed was one of those who stepped up and shook hands with 
him in the presence of the President. In speaking of his peo- 
ple, this man said that they had once been notorious for their 
cruelty. In illustration of this, he said, " When we took a 
handsome girl as prisoner, we kept her for a few weeks, and 
treated her well ; but after a certain time we tied her to a 
stake, had a great feast and much dancing, and then burned 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC, 



97 



her to death. Some of us cut off pieces of her flesh, and the 
boys of the tribe shot into her body little arrows made of 
prairie grass. But this was long ago, and it was very bad. 
Our people thought it would please the Great Spirit ; but we 
are wiser now." 

The truth was, they were frightened out of this horrible 
practice by being told that the small-pox by which they had 
once been scoui'ged was sent by the Great Spirit as a punish- 
ment for such wickedness. These people hardly know the use 
of a canoe, but journey exclusively on horseback. This man 
told us he had known several persons who had been scalped 
and yet survived. Such men, however, were always consid- 
ered disgraced, and they had a tradition that all such men 
congi'cgated in some distant country and lived in caves. Like 
the Comanches and Blackfeet Indians, the Pawnees have but 
few friends among the prairie tribes. 

The following official statement — the latest published by the 
United States government — gives the names of all the Indian 
tribes left within the limits of the Union, their place of loca- 
tion, and their numbers, as estimated by the Indian agents 
and other officials : 



Name of Tribe. 



No. of 
Souls. 



Place of Residence. 



Apaches 

Apaches 

Apaches 

Assinaboines 

Arick areas 

Arrapahoes 

Anailahkoes, Caddoes, and Ionics 

Blackfeet 

Cherokees 

Cherokces 



Choctaws 

Choctaws 

Chickasaws 

Creeks 

Creeks 

Chippcwas of Lake Superior., 
Chippewas of Lake Superior. . 
Chippewas of Lake Superior.. 
Chippewas of the Mississipjii . 



7,000 

320 
3,360 

800 
3,000 

.500 

7,500 

17,530 

2,200 

16,000 
1,000 
4,787 

25,000 
100 

4,940 

2,206 



E 



New Mexico Territory. 
Texas. 

Arkansas River. 
Upper Missouri River. 

do. 
Arkansas and Platte Rivers. 
Texas. 

Upper Missouri River. 
West of Arkansas. 
North Carolina, Tennessee, 

Georgia, and Alabama. 
West of Arkansas. 
Mississippi. 
West of Arkansas. 

do. 
Alabama. 

Michigan. 

Wisconsin. 

Minnesota Tcrritoiy. 
do. 



98 



LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



Name of Tribe. 



No. of 

yoiiis. 



I'lacc of RcBidence. 



Chippewas and Ottawas 

Chippewas of Saginaw 

Cliii)pcwas of Swan Creek, etc 

Chippewas of Swan Creek, etc. ... 

Cayugas 

Catawbas 

Christians or Munsees 

Crows 

Crecs 

Caddoes 

Conianches and Kioways 

Comanches 

Comanclies 

Cheyennes 

California Tribes 

Delawares 

Gros Ventres 

Ionics 

lowas 



Kickapoos 

Kickapoos 

Kioways 

Kioways 

Kansas 

Keechics, Wacoes, and Towacarros 

Kaskaskias 

Lipans 

Miamis 

Miamis 

Mandans , 

Minatarcs , 

Mcnomonees 

Missourias , 

Munsees 

Kuscaleros or Apaches 

Navajocs 

Oneidas 

Oneidas 

Onondagas 

Ottawas 

Ottawas 

Omahas 

Ottoes and Missourias 

Osagcs 

Oregon Territory Tribes 

Poncas 

Pottawatomies 

Pottawatomies of Huron 

PottaM'atomies 

Pawnees 



5,152 

1,340 

138 

33 

143 

200 

44 

3,3G0 

800 

20,000 

3, GOO 

2,800 

33,539 

902 

750 

433 
344 



2,805 

1,370 

300 

560 
207 
353 
250 
2,500 
1,930 



400 
7,500 
249 
978 
470 

249 

800 

fiOO 

4,098 

13,000 

700 

236 

45 

3,440 



Michigan. 

do. 

do. 
Kansas Territory. 
New York. 

North and South Carolina. 
Kansas Territory. 
Upper Missouri River. 

do. 
Texas. 

do. 
New Mexico Territory. 
Arkansas River. 
Arkansas and Platte Rivers. 
California. 
Kansas Territory. 
Upper ]\Iissouri River. 
Texas. 
Kansas Territory. 

do. 

Texas border. 
Texas. 

Arkansas Eivcr. 
Kansas Territory. 
Texas. 

Kansas Territory. 
Texas. 

Kansas Territory. 
Indiana. 
Upper Missouri River. 

do. 
Wisconsin. 
Nebraska Territory. 
Kansas Territory. 
Texas. 

New Mexico Territoiy, 
New York. 
Wisconsin. 
New York. 
Michigan. 
Kansas Territory. 
Nebraska Territory. 

do. 

West of Arkansas. 
Oregon Territory. 
Nebraska Territory. 
Michigan. 

do. 
Kansas Territory. 



4, OOOj Nebraska Territory, 



INTERVIEW OF INDIANS, ETC. 



99 



Name of Tribe. 



No. of 
Souls. 



riace of Residence. 



Piankeshaws, Weas, Peorias, and 

Kaskaskias 

Pueblo Indians 

Quapaws 

Stockbridges 

Stockbridges 

Sioux of the Mississippi 
Sioux of the Missouri... 

Sioux of the Phiins 

St. Regis Indians 

Senecas 

Senecas (Sandusky) 

Senecas and Sha\vnees(Lewistown) 

Shawnees , 

Sacs and Foxes of Mississippi 

Sacs and Foxes of Missouri 

Seminoles 

Seminoles 

Tuscaroras 

Towaccaros 

Tonkawas 

Utah Territory Tribes 

Utahs 

Wacoes 

Wichitas 

Weas 

Winnebagoes 

Winnebagoes 

Wyandots 

Washington Territory Tribes 

Wandering Indians of Comanches, 

Cheyenne, and other tribes 

Total number 314,6221 



220lKansas Territory. 
10,000 New Mexico Territory. 
314 West of Arkansas. 
13 Kansas Territory. 
240 Wisconsin. 
6,383 Minnesota Territory. 
15,440, Upper Missouri Eiver. 
5, eOOjPlatte and Arkansas Rivers. 
450 New York. 



2,557 
180 
271 
851 

1,626 
180 

2,500 
500 
280 

400 

12,000 

2,500 

950 



do. 
West of Arkansas. 

do. 
Kansas Territory, 
do. 
do. 
West of Arkansas. 
Florida. 
New York. 
Texas, 
do. 
Utah Territory. 
New Mexico Territory. 
Texas, 
do. 
— Kansas Territory. 
2,546 Minnesota Territory. 
208|Kansas Territory. 
554| do. 
14, 000, Washington Territory. 

1 7, 000 j New Mexico Territory. 



100 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEEICA. 



CHAPTER Xni. 

AMEKICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 

Every country has its own slang or "argot," though it is 
not every language that has a word to express this particular 
form of the ultra-vulgar vernacular. American slang is more 
interesting to an educated Englishman than the slang of France, 
Germany or any other country. The slang of ancient Greece 
and Rome, with the exception of a very few words imperfectly 
understood, is lost to the moderns, or it might perhaps interest 
us as greatly as the classical speech which has come down to 
us, for the new light it might throw upon the manners, char- 
acteristics, and domestic life of the ancient peoples. But as 
this is no longer a possible subject of study for the learned 
or unlearned, and as slang at home is unhappily too familiar 
to be considered of any importance, the peculiar idioms, per- 
versions, and revivals of words in common use among our 
American cousins, striking us by their novelty, acquire by 
that means a certain sort of dignity, and become valuable to 
the student both of history and literature. They show the 
up-springings and germinations of language. They prove how 
much points of diftex-ence in national character, and even cli- 
mate and accidental circumstances of politics or trade, can 
influence and change the Avell-established Avords of the dic- 
tionary ; how a noun, verb, or adjective, without being in the 
least degree changed in its pronunciation, can insensibly glide 
into a meaning totally diiferent from that with which it was 
originally associated ; and how new Avords are coined, and are 
always coinable by and under new circumstances. In these 
respects, the study even of " slang" is profitable, whether the 
student be a philosopher in the largest sense of the word, or 
merely a philologist. Etymology is a fiery and often unman- 
ageable hobby-horse to ride, but those who ride it wisely may 
do good service. During my residence in America, I noted 



AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 101 

down from day to day not only the single words and forms 
of expression, but the phrases used both by educated and un- 
educated men with whom I held conversation, and also the 
idioms in books and newspapers which grated harshly or 
sounded strangely to my English ears. To these I added 
words which, if not ungraceful and vulgar in themselves, had 
a flavor of novelty and foreignness. A few of these words 
have been introduced from America into England, and have 
a positive value for expressing tersely the complicated ideas 
Avhich, without their aid, could not have been forcibly render- 
ed in any other way. Others, again, derived from Duteli, 
German, or Spanish roots, although they have no individual 
merit to recommend them to the estimation of the Englisli 
scholar, stand as simple Americanisms, with such justification 
as geography can afford them. And how much geographical 
distances, even small, can influence and change a noble lan- 
guage, we may see by the study of the varieties of English 
spoken in such slightly divergent localities as London, Corn- 
wall, Newcastle, Wales, Ireland, Edinburgh, and Aberdeen. 

The " Great West" of the United States — the home of the 
hardiest and roughest population, and which contains the 
largest admixture of the foreign races of Europe — is the birth- 
place of the greatest number of new words. But even here 
the new words are more commonly revivals of local and pro- 
vincial Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Scandinavian words still in 
use in the rural districts of England, although they have 
dropped out of polite life and literature, than "annexations" 
from an entirely foreign source. When we see in our clas- 
sical England itself — where, if any where, the best and purest 
English ought to be spoken — the growth and acceptance of 
such a word as " starvation," and of another that has not an 
equal antiquity to recommend it — the odious but fashionable 
woi'd in Parliament and newspapers, " to ' ventilate' a sub- 
ject," we can not be surprised that in the New World the old 
language should partake of the colors of the clime, and un- 
dergo transformations more or less decided. " Humbug" has 
become a good word by virtue of time and possession ; and 
for the same reason, " to Barnumize" may finally become 



102 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

naturalized on both sides of the Atlantic, and express the ac- 
tion of him who would resort to the ne 2)lus ultra of all possi- 
ble humbug for the filling of his pockets at the expense of the 
public. Valuable is any one word which can be made to ex- 
press an idea so complicated. 

First of all, I cite a few words that have lost in America 
their original English meaning. 

To exercise means to agitate, vex, or trouble. Thus it is 
said of a senator in Congress that he is exercised by the great 

question he is about to bring forward, or that Mr. was 

much exercised by an attack upon him in a newspaper. 

Bright means " clever." A clever man, or a man of talent, 
would in America be called a " bright" man. 

Clever means " amiable and courteous." A " clever" cap- 
tain is one who is friendly, attentive, and polite to his passen- 
gers. Among the recommendations sometimes advertised in 
the Mississippi and Ohio steam-boats is that the captain and 
clerk are the " cleverest" on the line, and for this reason asree- 
able to the ladies. 

Amiable means " stupid." A member of the House of Eep- 
resentatives, and a most worthy man, was highly offended at 
hearing his friend called "amiable" by an Englishman. He 
thought the phrase implied a reproach or a sneer, and de- 
clared that the word "amiable" was synonymous with what 
in English slang is called " spooney." " You may call a wom- 
an 'amiable,' " said he, "but not a man." 

Skhijlint, which in England signifies "over-sensitive," in 
America means " stingy and parsimonious." 

Smart means " sharp." A smart man is one who would do 
a dishonest act in business if he could manage to keep on the 
safe side and avoid the law. 

Among the pure Americanisms may be cited the follow- 
ing: 

To honeyfuglc, to gloze, flatter, bamboozle, or " take in." 

High falutin or high verlooten signifies high-flown, exag- 
gerated, and bombastic in speech or writing. 

To loaf, to idle or dawdle. 

A loafer, a dawdler or idler. * 



AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 103 

Splurge, a display, an outburst of expenditure, such as to 
create a sensation among the by-standers or witnesses. 

To make a splurge may be rendered by the common English 
vulgarism, " to cut a dash." 

To cave in, to give way, to collapse. 

To stump, to address public meetings in the open air — a 
phrase derived from the fact that popular orators in most cir- 
cumstances often stand on stumps of trees, as the most avail- 
able platforms. 

To stump a state, to go on a tour of political agitation through 
a state. 

Platform, the recognized principles and creed of a political 
party. This phrase is of English origin, and is to be found 
in the political tracts and in the sermons of the days of Crom- 
well. 

A plank of the platform, one principle out of the many 
agreed ujion by a party. 

Buncombe or Bunkum. A diffuse and angry orator having 
made a somewhat irrational and very unnecessary speech in 
the House of Representatives at Washington where nobody 
thought it worth while to contradict him, was afterward ask- 
ed by a friend who met him in Pennsylvania Avenue why he 
had made such a display? "I was not speaking to the House," 
he replied ; " I was speaking to Buncombe" — a county or 
district by the majority of whose votes he had been elected. 
Hence Buncombe or Bunkum has become a phrase in Amer- 
ica, and, to some extent, in England also, to express that 
extra parliamentary oratory which appeals to the passions or 
prejudices of the outside people, or sections of tlie people, and 
not to the reason and sound sense of a deliberative assembly. 

To vamose, to decamp or vanish. 

Pile, a fortune. 

To make a pile, to make a fortune. 

Swanger, a dandy or " swell." 

A mms, a slight quarrel or disturbance. 

A cuss, a curse — applied to a person. 

A mean cuss, a cursedly mean person. 

Mung, sham, false, pretended. 



104 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Mung news, a fabrication. 

Bender, a spree. 

To go on a bender, to go on a spree. 

To fix, to dress, to adorn, to trim. The phrase is applied 
either to the human figure, as when a lady says she will " fix 
herself;" or to an article of attire, as when she says her cap, 
her bonnet, or dress, has been " fixed" or ornamented ; or to a 
dish for the table, as to " fix" a steak with onions — a chicken 
with mushrooms, etc. 

Fixings, trimmings, adornments. 

Caucus, a preliminary political meeting, and gathering to- 
gether of the party, to decide upon ulterior movements. 

To lobby, to use private influence for the passing of bills 
through the Legislature. 

Grit, the real grit, the true grit. These words or phrases are 
used to signify a person of superior worth, solidity, and genu- 
ineness, as distinguished from another who is inferior, or merely 
" chaff." The miller is evidently the parent of this expression. 

Declension " I have been writing," said a lady, " several de- 
clensions to dinners and balls." The word is equivalent to re- 
fusal, but it seems to mean refusal for reasons assigned — a de- 
clinature. 

Bogus, false or sham ; said to be derived from the name of 
a man notorious for issuing counterfeit notes. Hence " bogus" 
news, a "bogus" meeting, a "bogus" baby, a "bogus" senator, 
a "bogus" convention. 

To foot a bill, to sign or accept bill. 

Whole-souled, a very common phrase in America to express 
a hearty enthusiastic person. In " Lloyd's Railway Guide," 
the Bradshaw of America, it is stated of one of the hotels in a 
principal city that " Colonel , the proprietor, is a whole- 
souled landlord." 

Fits. To " give a man fits" is an expression continually 
used, and seems to mean, to assault, or give a man a disagree- 
able surprise, cither by words or by blows, or by a public ex- 
posure. 

Jesse. To " give Jesse" or " particular Jesse" arc phrases 
equivalent to the preceding. 



^ AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 105 

Bim. Hit him bim in the eye — i. e., right in the eye. 

Realize — Realizing. It is a favorite pulpit phrase to say that 
a person has a " realizing sense of the goodness of God." 

Depot, a railway station. 

Fizzle, a slight quarrel or controversy. 

A stavqiede, a rush, a multitudinous exit. 

Socdologer, a knock-down blow. There is a species offish- 
hook of this name. 

To overslaugh, a word apparently derived from the German 
or old English, like onslaught, and signifying to strike over. 

Rocks, money — a Californian phrase. 

To squirm, to wriggle like a worm. 

To tote, to carry. 

To tote the plunder, a slang phrase for " carry the lugga"-c." 

To ivilt, to wither. 

Willed, withered. 

Ge-a-headativc, progressive, " fast." 

A doughface, a man easily moved to change his opinion ; a 
person to be wrought upon and modeled to any particular 
shape, like a piece of dough. 

Boss, a master ; " a boss barber," " a boss butcher," are 
common expressions. 

Shyster, a blackguard. 

Cracker, a biscuit. 
Nut anvil, a nut-cracker. 

In all great American cities there are, as there are in the 
cities of Europe, rude youths, who vent the exuberance of their 
animal spirits in acts of daring that too often savor of what 
might not unjustly be called blackguardism. But in America 
such persons are of more importance in the social scale than 
they are with us, for they have votes if they have reached the 
age of twenty-one, and they have aggregate political influence 
in addition if they happen to be members of the fire-companies, 
or to be otherwise enrolled and enregimented. The ruffians 
of this sort have names that differ in different cities. In New 
York there are " Bowery boys," " Spiggots," " High -binders," 
and " Kowdies." The last word has already reached England, 
and tljrea,tens to become naturalized. In "Washington thoy liavo 

E 2 



106 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

" Swipers ;"* in riiilatlelpliia " Dead Kabbits ;" and in Balti- 
more, "Plug-uglies," " Kosebuds,"t and "Blood-tubs." In 
the New England States, where the municipal government is 
generally far more settled, and Avhere a volunteer fire service 
is not the rule, but the exception, these Ishmaels are not to be 
found, and the order and regularity approach to, or equal that 
of the streets of London, where a " Plug-ugly," a " Dead Rab- 
bit," or a " Blood-tub" would stand no chance against the 
police. 

Among other Amei'icanisms that strike the attention of a 
stranger, though doubtless they would not be noticed by a 
nati\'e-born American of the highest culture and refinement, 
simply from the fact of the familiarity, are such mispronunci- 
ations as "ben" for "been," "ail-" for "are," and "Avas"for 
"were;" " ant-^7/e-slavery" for "anti-slavery," " Eye-taly" 
for " Italy," " Eye-talian" for " Italian," " dye-plomatic" for 
"diplomatic," and invariably "m_yself" for the more subdued 
mode in which we in the "old country" pronounce these two 
egotistical syllables. " Engine" is generally " cn-f/ine," though 
" machine" retains the English pronunciation. 

Among the idiomatic and proverbial expressions that differ 
from those of the mother country are such as the following : 
" 1 reckon," which is the distinctive mark of the Southerners, 

* "Last iiifflit, at about half past eleven o'clock, another of those 
murders which have been so frequent of late in Washington, by the 
hands of rowdies, was committed on the corner of Ninth Street and New 
York Avenue. Marccllus Stoops, a quiet young man, a messenger in 
the Treasury Department, while walking leisurely along in comi)any 
with another young man, was shot with a jjistol. He died a few min- 
utes afterward, and before Dr. Duhamel, who was sent for, could reacdi 
the spot. Eight or ten men of the lighting club here, called " Swipers," 
have been arrested, and it is stated that one of the leaders, called John- 
son, shot the unfortunate )'oung man. Washington has become the 
most lawless place in the world." — Neio York Herald, Ajiril 4, 1858. 

f "'Democrat of the old school' informs us that the 'Kosebuds,' 
charged with rowdyism at the last Baltimore election, and acquitted in 
the Circuit Court of Baltimore on the 4th inst., were good Buchanan 
Democrats, and were acquitted by a Know Nothing jury, because the 
evidence ])lainly showed the police to bo in the wrong." — Neio York 
lln-nld, Fchruarij 14, 1859. 



AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 107 

as " I guess" is of the people of the New Englancl States and 
of the North generally. "All aboard," or "All aboord," is 
the invariable cry of the conductors and officials of the rail- 
way stations or depots when they wish the passengers to take 
their seats. This is not the only nautical phrase in general 
use among the Americans. " Where do you hail from f is 
often asked ; and it is not uncommon to be told that Mr. or 
Mrs. So-and-so has been " hauled up" with a fever. To be 
" under the weather" is to suft'cr from cold. To " give a man 
hell" is to beat him, bully him, or, as our prize-fighters would 
say, " punish" him. To make a man " smell hell" is a phrase 
with a similar meaning. I remember hearing, in the Parlia- 
ment of one of the Southern States, an angry orator declare, 
that if the gentleman from — say Buncombe (not the honora- 
ble member for Buncombe, as with us), dared to repeat out of 
the house what he had said in the house, he would make him 
"smell hell." A common expression in the Southern States 
to denote an ambuscade is that " thci'e is a nigger in the 
fence." In the Northern States the same meaning is con- 
veyed by the phrase, possibly English in its origin, " There's 
a cat in the meal-tub." A man of great importance in his 
own estimation or that of the world, is called a " big bug." 
Thus I Street in Washington, tlic residence of the foreign 
embassadors, bankers, and other important persons, is said to 
be inhabited by the " big bugs." A person of note and great 
wealth is said to be "some punkins" (or pumpkins). And 
instead of the common English phrase, that "it is well to 
wash the dirty family linen at home," the Western people 
have the more striking and significant phrase, that " every 
man should skin his own skunk." The skunk is fortunately 
unknown in England, but it is a little animal that smells ten 
thousand times worse than a polecat, and of which, if the least 
odor gets into the clothes or garments of man or woman, the 
only remedy is to burn them. "To play 'possum" is equiv- 
alent to the old London phrase of "shamming Abi'aham," 
the opossum having a trick of pretending to be dead when it 
finds that all other means of escape from its enemies are un- 
availing. 



108 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

A hunch of sprouts. An Englishman who had steamed 
down the Mississippi with a captain who was not "clever" 
in the American sense of the word, seeing on his arrival 
at New Orleans a great assemblage of people at the levee, 
and hearing a disturbance, asked the captain what was the 
matter. 

" Oh, nothing particular," said the captain, " It is only 
Jones, an editor, wlio has quarreled with Smith, another edi- 
tor, and given him a whole bunch of sprouts." 

"A bunch of sprouts !" inquired the Englishman. 

" Yes, a bunch of sprouts," said the captain. 

" And what is a ' bunch of sprouts V " inquired John Bull, 
bewildered. 

" Don't you know !" rejoined the captain. 

" I don't," said John Bull. 

" Then more fool you," was the reply, on giving which the 
captain turned upon his heel and Avalked aAvay. 

The Englishman, not altogether discouraged, applied to the 
clerk for information. 

"Oh ! editors are ahvays quarreling here," he replied. " It 
is but one editor who has given another a bunch of sprouts." 

"But what is a 'bunch of sprouts?' " 

" Don't you know f 

"Not I." 

" Why, what a fool you must be !" 

The stoiy is that the Englishman has asked the same ques- 
tion since that day, no one knows how many years ago, of 
thousands of people, but never obtained an ansAver ; that the 
idea has taken entire possession of his mind ; and that he is 
wandering over the United States asking every one he meets, 
"What is a 'bunch of sprouts?'" Receiving no satisfactory 
reply, he hurries on from place to place, and from person to 
person, worn to a skeleton, the mere shadow of a man — a kind 
of flying Dutchman — a spectral presence — a wandering Jew — 
asking the old, eternal question, never to be answered on this 
side of the grave, " What is a ' bunch of sprouts?' " Should 
this unhappy citizen of our fortunate isles ever read these 
pages, the spell that is upon him will be broken, and he Avill 



AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. 109 

learn that a " bunch of sprouts" is a slang expression for the 
whole discharge of a revolver — barrel after barrel. 

To attempt to make a vocabulary of the political slang 
words that every now and then arise in the United States, 
live their little day, and sink into oblivion, but which, while 
they last, sorely puzzle all who are not Americans, would be 
an endless and an unsatisfactory task. Such words and 
phrases as "Hard Shells," "Soft Shells," " Locofocos," 
"Know Nothings," and others, which float about on the 
stormy ocean of politics until they are ingulfed or rot aAvay, 
are ephemeral by their very nature. Invented by newspapers 
or stump orators, they tickle the public fancy for a time. 
They enjoy considerable popularity while current, but they are 
so entirely local as scarcely to merit explanation beyond the 
limits of the country which produces them. 

A rich and fruitful source of slang expressions is to be found 
in the names of drinks in such Southern and Western States 
as the agents of the Maine Liquor Law have hitherto assault- 
ed in vain. " Gin-sling," " brandy-smash," " a streak of light- 
ning," "whisky-skin," " mirft-julep," "cocktail," "sherry- 
cobbler," and others, arc more or less known, both by name 
and by nature, on this side of the Atlantic, and need not be 
farther particularized. In the South — and possibly the phrase 
extends northward to New York, and westward beyond Chi- 
cago — a dram, or small glass of spirits, is called a " smile." 

Let no American reader of these pages misinterpret the mo- 
tives which induce a ti'aveler from the old country, that still 
presumes to be the home of the language as avcII as of the 
race, to note the differences which climate and circumstances 
may make in such a familiar matter as the daily speech of the 
semi-educated or the wholly vulgar. In England, the changes 
which the spoken language undergoes from generation to gen- 
eration are very many, and such is the ever-increasing inter- 
course between the United States and the British Isles, that 
a word introduced in the one speedily becomes known in the 
other, and if it have any terseness or appositeness to recom- 
mend it, becomes naturalized in both countries. It takes a 
long time to secure even for a good and valuable word a place 



110 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

in the clignified niche of a dictionary, in which respect our dic- 
tionary makers err on the side of undue conservatism. Man 
is not made for language, but language is made for man ; and 
the English spoken at the time when Columbus discovered 
America is not the English spoken either in England or Amei*- 
ica at the present time. Even the common talk of the fathers 
of the present generation differed in many respects from the 
common talk of the men of the year 1859, and the copious- 
ness, if not the elegance, of the noblest tongue, all things con- 
sidered, spoken in the present age of the world, is continually 
increased by inventions, revivals, and, it may be said, rob- 
beries, or, at the least, appropriations and assimilations from 
other languages, less fortunate and wealthy. It were to be 
wished, however, that those who have the ear of their coun- 
trymen, either as great orators or great writers, would, instead 
of being led away, as they sometimes are, by a foolish fiishion 
for a word, as ladies ai-e by a stupid ftishion for red stockings 
or red petticoats, and other ebullitions of the scarlet fever, be- 
think themselves how many excellent words have dropped out 
of use since the days of Chaucfir, or even more recently, since 
those of Shakspeare. Some of these M^ords are of the highest 
value both to orators and poets, and it would be much better 
to revive them than to coin other Avords out of foreign or vul- 
gar materials, which do not and never can harmonize so thor- 
oughly with the genius of our tongue as the sturdy, pithy, 
able-bodied words of our Anglo-Saxon and Anglo- Scandina- 
vian ancestors. The Scottish, and even the Northumbrian, 
Yoi'kshire, Lincohishire, Sufiblk, and Cornish dialects of the 
English language contain many excellent words that the great- 
est writers since the days of Pope and Addison have never 
thought of using, but by aid of Avhich our literature would be 
all the richer if men of influence with the pen would judicious- 
ly and cautiously endeavor to reintroduce them. Why, for 
instance, should we have " rather," and not " rathe" and 
"rathesf?" Why not naturalize the Scottish "gloaming," 
''glamour," " cannie," "douce," "bonnie," " cantie," "son- 
sie," " daft," " wud," " wowfF," and many other honest words 
that have not their synonyms in English literature? The 



AMERICANISMS AND AMERICAN SLANG. Ill ■ 

archa3ological dictionaries and glossaries of the British Isles 
contain mines of treasure, which, when we consider of what 
elements the population of the United States and Canada is 
mainly composed, lead us to hope that our language, like our 
race, may achieve new triumphs, and attain greater wealth 
and power in the new regions to which it has been transplant- 
ed than it ever attained in the. original cradle of its birth and 
growth. If he who makes a blade of grass grow where grass 
never grew before, is to that extent a public benefactor, is not 
he who coins a new word to express a new meaning, or an old 
meaning that could not be otherwise expressed without a peri- 
phrasis or a whole sentence to itself, or, better still, who re- 
vives a good old word that ought never to have been allowed 
to die, a public benefactor also? I think so, and for that rea- 
son have dwelt at greater length upon the subject of Ameri- 
canisms in speech than I should otherwise have considered 
myself justified in doing. 

In addition to these, there are Americanisms in writing 
which strike the traveler by their novelty. To an English- 
man it would seem odd if, instead of Birmingham on the ad- 
dress of a letter, there were simply " Bir.," or instead of Lon- 
don, " Lon.," or of Manchester, " Man." But such abbrevia- 
tions are the rule and not the exception in America. Every 
state in the Union has its recognized abbreviation, which is 
always a monosyllable, wherever it is possible so to make it. 
New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, North 
Carolina, and South Carolina, are the sole exceptions to the 
monosyllabic arrangement, and are commonly written and 
printed N. Y., N. J., N. II., K. I., N. Ca., and S. Ca. The 
other states are. 



Maine Me. 

Vermont Vt. 

Massachusetts Mass . 

Connecticut Conn. 

Pennsylvania Pa. 

Delaware Del. 

Maryland Ma. or Mtl. 

Virjjjinia Va. 



Alabama Ala. 

Mississipjji Miss. 

Missouri Mo. 

Louisiana La. 

Arkansas Ark. 

Tennessee Tenn. 

Kentucky Ky. 

Ohio O. 



Georgia Ga. I Michigan Mich. 



112 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



Indiana Ind. 

Illinois lU. 

Florida Fla. 

Texas Tex. 



Iowa lo. 

Wisconsin Wis. 

Minnesota Min. 

California Cal. 



In like manner, the name of the city of Baltimore is abbre- 
viated into Balto. A busy, " go-ahead" nation has not time 
to write the names of its states and cities in full. If this be 
not the reason, it is difhcult to find another. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE IRISH IN AMERICA. 



Washington, January, 1858. 

Standing at the bar of Willard's Hotel, in Washington, in 
company with two distinguished senators and three members 
of Congi'ess, and taking, all of us, a slight noonday refection 
of crackei'S (biscuits) and lager beer, our conversation turned 
upon the great rebellioii in India, and upon the indomitable 
"pluck" and energy displayed by the British soldiers and com- 
manders, and especially by the gallant Havclock, in confront- 
ing and subduing the mutineers. The execrations lavished 
upon the name of Nana Sahib, and the fervent praises show- 
ered upon that of Havelock by my American friends, could 
not have been surpassed for honest intensity in any circle in 
England. Every one of them seemed to feel proud that he 
was of the same blood and lineage as the conquerors of India, 
and, although the great struggle was far from concluded, each 
predicted that it could but have one result — the utter discom- 
fiture of the foe, and the triumphant vindication of British 
supremacy in every portion of our Eastern empire. 

" It is the blood, sir," said one of the senators — " the no- 
blest and best blood in the world — a blood that never was 
conquered, and never will be." 

At this moment, a person who had been hanging on, and 
listening to the conversation — an Irishman by his accent, and 
who, as it afterward appeared, had not been above five years 
in America — burst in upon us Avith a volley of oaths so awful 



THE IRISH IN AMERICA. Il3 

and so disgusting that no gentleman or man of common de- 
cency would whisper them, much more print them, and im- 
precated such Avrath of heaven upon England and upon En- 
glishmen in India and at home, that I fairly lost breath in the 
excess of my surprise at hearing such abominable sentiments 
in the mouth of a human being. That every English man, 
woman, and child in India should be put to the sword, was 
but one of tlie hideous wishes which he formed, and his whole 
speech, gesture, and demeanor suggested the idea that he was 
a maniac rather than a sane man. It did not appear, how- 
ever, that he was mad. He was a well-known "citizen," I 
was told, and much respected ; and, though much more vio- 
lent in his Anglophobia than the Irish generally, he but ex- 
pressed a feeling only too common among men of his race who 
have left Ireland for Great Britain's good, and brought their 
passions and their prejudices into the great arena of American 
jiolltics. 

The incident suggested the propiiety of making some in- 
quiries into the condition of the Irish in the United States, 
and to the sources of their continually and openly avowed 
hatred toward England. It can not be denied that the Irish 
imuii^^ration has been of incalculable service to the develop- 
ment of the resources of the United States, and more espe- 
cially of the North and West. As servants, or " helps," in- 
stead of the negroes — to the employment of whom many per- 
sons have an aversion — and as strong, sturdy laborers doing 
all the rough work of the country, especially building and the 
making of canals and railroads, they have supplied a great 
public want, and aided immensely in the material progress of 
the country. The native-born American, of Anglo-Saxon de- 
scent, looks upon all rough labor, except that of the farm, as 
somewhat derogatory from his dignity. It is for him to labor 
with his brains rather than with his thews and sinews ; to 
barter, not to dig and delve ; and to set others to hard Avork 
rather than do the hard work himself. And the able-bodied 
Irish supplied the very help he needed, and both parties to the 
bargain were satisfied — the Americans in getting the work 
done, and the Irishman in getting as much wages in one day 



114 LIFE AND LIJ5ERTY IN AMERICA. 

as he could have got in Ireland or in England in a week. 
]5ut hero the .satisfaction of the Americans came to an end. 
The new-comer, though not entitled to a vote until after a 
residence of a certain number of years in the country, cither 
found means himself, or had them found for him by others, to 
claim tlie pri\ilege before he had been a week on American 
soil. Instances have been known, during hot election con- 
tests in the state or the municipality of New York, when the 
whole male immigration landed in the morning from a Cork or 
Liverpool vessel has voted ere the afternoon for one " ticket" 
or the other. This abuse, and the general dictatorialness of 
the Irish party, Avhen, after due naturalization and long res- 
idence, they had acquired the legal right to vote, and had been 
marshaled by their ecclesiastical and lay leaders into one un- 
broken phalanx, led to the establishment of what is sometimes 
called the " Know-nothing," and sometimes the " American" 
party. The main object of this organization, whatever be its 
proper designation, was to prevent all but native-born Amer- 
icans from voting at elections ; and there can be little 
doubt, if they could have succeeded in this object, that the 
anti-lJritish feeling which is so often fomented in the States 
for purposes wholly domestic and internal, would speedily di- 
minish, if it did not die out altogether. And it is well that 
the Ihitish people should understand how it is that, from time 
to time, so much jealousy and ill feeling are expressed toward 
England by speakers and writers in the United States. The 
most influential, if not the largest portion of the American 
people, arc the descendants of Englishmen and Scotchmen — 
men Avho, when they speak from their hearts of England, her 
laws, her litei-ature, and her example, might borrow the words 
of Olivef Wendell Holmes, and exclaim, 

" Our little motlicr isle ! God bless her !" 

The descendants of the French, the Germans, and the Nor- 
wegians, who form another large class in America, have no 
ill feeling toward England. They are a patient, plodding, and 
industiious people, and if they do not love her, they certainly 
do not hate her. The party that hates England, and which it 



THE IRISH IN AMERICA. 115 

is sometimes expedient to propitiate even at the cost of reason, 
justice, and propriety, exists mainly in the Irish immigration. 
The Ilibcrno- Americans, as a body, entertain a religious as 
well as a political hatred toward Great Britain — a hatred 
which would doubtless expire were it not fostered for purposes 
of ecclesiastical domination and influence, or encouraged for 
the selfish objects of ambitious demagogues, who strive to raise 
themselves into notoriety and power by arts that in the Old 
Country have ceased to be profitable in ceasing to be danger- 
ous. Parties in America are divided in reality into the pro- 
slavery and anti-slavery parties, and — with some minor shades 
of difference, that ax'e as shifting as the glass beads and frag- 
ments in a kaleidoscope — into the Republican and Democratic 
parties. These arc the two great and essential divisions, shift 
and change as they may ; and, these being pretty neai'ly bal- 
anced, the Irish party, well drilled and organized, and keeping 
aloof until victory must be declared on some one of the many 
issues that ai-e continually raised, is able but too often to turn 
the scale. Hence the Iliberno-Amcricans arc hated and yet 
courted by both ; and hence eveiy now and then it is found 
that statesmen who have no sympathy for the Irish and the 
priests deem it necessary to angle for Irish votes by anti-En- 
glish orations, which it would greatly grieve these statesmen to 
be taken in England at their American value. 

Whenever the election for President draws near, and for at 
least eighteen months before the final decision of the struecle, 
it may be noticed that the American press, both of the North 
and the South, gets up a grievance against England. If it be 
not the right of search, or the enlistment question, or a dis- 
puted boundary in the far Northwest, or a fishing case in the 
Bay of Fundy, or the right of way across the Isthmus of Pan- 
ama, or the Mosquitian Protectorate, it will be something else; 
perhaps something of no greater moment than a leading article 
in The Times, or some other London journal of note or influ- 
ence. Hard words will be used ; much " bunkum" will be 
spoken ; and from the press the vitupez-ation will spread to the 
floor of Congress, until Englishmen, partly alarmed and partly 
amused, are compelled to ask in genuine bewilderment what 



IIG TilFE AND MBKIITY IN AMERICA. 

it ill! means? It iiionns i\o(lui>ji;, oxcept that llic two grcjit 
Ainoiic'un pjirlics, opposing cacli otlior l"or some object, or to 
CJirry the clod ion of some cjindiiljito lor high ollice, and deem- 
ing every vote of importance in a, contest too evenly balanced 
to be comfortable for cilher, desire to have the Irish on their 
side. Antl the straw with which the Irish are most easily 
tickled ia abuse of England. Predict that tlic sun of England's 
greatness is sot forever, and the Irishman will think you the 
])ink of orators. Assert that Brother donathan will " lick" 
.loliM IJjdl into innnortal "smash," and all creation along with 
him, and Taddy O'Konrke will flourish his shillaly, ami vent 
his ecstasy in prolonged ululations. 

But the leading statesmen of America, though they are con- 
demned at times to use such agencies for the accomplishment 
of ])tn'poses which have not the remotest connection with En- 
glish politics, despise the tools with which they do this work, 
and look with unfeigned alarm upon the prospect of any seri- 
ous misunderstanding Avith Great Britain. It is not race or 
blood, so uuieh as religion, that creates the ill-feeling of Ko- 
man Catholic Irishmen toward Protestant England. And this 
animosity, which does not all'ect the German immigration, 
even when newly arrived, is found by experience to be greatly 
weakened in the second generation. The children born of 
Irish parents upon American soil, sent in ordinary course to the 
excellent schools so bountifully provided in all the states, arc 
assimilated to the common American type, and in their youth 
and maturity cease to look upon England with the vindictive- 
ncss of their jn-ogenitors. They cling aHectionately to the 
name and to the memory of the green isle, but do not lind it 
absolutely essential to their love of Irehmd that they should 
hate England. If a few of the fathers inveigh against the 
Sassenach with the bloodthirsty bitterness of the zealot Avhose 
exhibition of himself in the j)ublie room at Willard's has led 
to these observations, it is satisfactory to think that the virus 
is weakened in the children, and that a cause so beneficent for 
the change is to be fomul in the operation of the school system 
and the extension of education. 



J''JiOM. VVASIIIWUTUJS TO CINCINNATI. U7 



CHAPTER XV. 

FROM WA.SIIlN(JTON TO (JINCINNATI. 

(JiiKurinati, .Jniiimry 1!), IHHH. 
Prior to leaving WiiHliington, my rrionds — and among tlKiir 
nnmcH 1 miglit inisnlion, if it w(!rc u jjortion of iriy (l(;.sl<fii to 
detail private goHsij), houkj of tlie most illn.strioiis [nihlie men 
in America — gav(! me a [)arting diimer at Gautier's well-known 
restaurant in I'ennwylvania Avenue. It is not necessary to 
say more of tliis dinner tlian that it was luxuriousdy served, 
the cookin;/; as .scicntilic, and IIk; win(!S as rare, as if tliC! sym- 
I)Osium liad been in I'aris or London. Furthermon;, it led to 
the pi'oduction of the following lines, wliieii the author recited 
in lieu of making a Hjjcech : 

.lOIiN AND .JONATHAN. 
I. 

"(Said I'rollKir .Junutli.'ui to .Joliii, 

' You arc tho cltlcr-Iiorn, 
And 1 Clin hear anotlicr'H liato, 

IJut not your li(.^Iit,(!Kt Hcoru. 
You've lived a hfe of nobI(5 Htrifo, 

You've ina<le a world your own : 
Why, wlicii I follow in your KtepM, 

Kcccive me with a, groan ? 

II. 

" 'I feci the proinptinRS of my youth, 

TJiat urf^e mc cvcirniore 
To spread my fume, my race, my name 

From Khore to farthest shore;. 
I f(!cl th(! lij^litninf^H in my lilood, 

'J'lio thuTiders in my lianil, 
Ami I must work iriy dc^stiny, 

Whoever may withstand. 

III. 
" 'And if you'd f^ive me, iJrolhcr .John, 
'I'he symi)atliy I crave;, 
And stnttcli your warm fratcnial hand 
Across the Atlaiilic wave, 



118 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

I'd give it such a, cordial grasp 
That earth should start to sec, 

And ancient crowns and sceptres shake, 
That fear both you and me.' 

IV. 

" Said Brother John to Jonathan, 

' You do my nature wrong ; 
I never hated, never scorn'd, 

But loved you well and long. 
If, children of the self-same sire, 

We've quarrel'd now and then, 
'Twas only in our early youth. 

And not since we were men. 

T. 

" ' And if with cautious, cooler blood, 

Result of sufferings keen, 
I sometimes think you move too fast, 

Mistake not what I mean. 
I've felt the follies of my youth. 

The errors of my prime. 
And dream'd for you — my father's son — 

A future more sublime. 



" ' And here's my hand — tis freely given — 

I stretcli it o'er tlic brine. 
And wish you from my heart of hearts 

A higher life than mine. 
Together let us rule the world. 

Together work and thrive ; 
For if you're only twenty-one, 

I'm scarcely thirty-five. 

VII. 

" 'And I have strength for nobler work 

Than e'er my hand has done, 
And realms to rule and truths to plant 

Beyond the rising sun. 
Take you the West and I the East ; 

We'll spread ourselves abroad. 
With trade and spade and wholesome laws. 

And faith in man and God. 

VIII. 

«' 'Take you the West and I the East ; 
We speak tlie self-same tongue 
That Milton wrote and Chatham spoke, 
And Burns and Shakspeare sung ; 



FEOM WASHINGTON TO CINCINNATI. 119 

And from our tonj^ue, our hand, our heart, 

Shall countless blessings flow 
To light two darkened hemispheres 

That know not where they go. 

IX. 

" 'Our Anglo-Saxon name and fame, 

Our Anglo-Saxon speech, 
Received their mission straight from heaven 

To civilize and teach. 
So here's my hand, I stretch it fortii ; 

Ye meaner lands look on ! 
From this day hence there's friendship firm 

'Twixt Jonathan and John !' 

X. 

"They shook their hands — this noble pair — 

And o'er the ' electric chain' 
Came daily messages of jjcace 

And love betwixt them twain. 
Wlien other nations, sore opprcss'd, 

Lie dark in sorrow's night. 
They look to Jonathan and John, 

And hojje for coming light." 

Leaving unvisitcd until another opportunity the large and 
flourishing city of Baltimore, we started from "Washington for 
Cincinnati, by the Baltimore and Ohio Kailway, at the early 
hour of four on a cold morning of January. The rain fell in 
torrents — in drops larger than fall in England in the heaviest 
thunderstorms of July or August. The long, wide avenues 
of the capital were silent and deserted, and the few gas-lights 
threw a flickering radiance over the swollen gutters, that 
rolled along like mimic rivers to join the neighboring stream 
of the Potomac. I had made so many friends at Washington 
— met so many of the most able, most eloquent, and most in- 
fluential members of the House of Representatives and of the 
Senate — been at so many balls, parties, and dinners, and seen 
so much of the beauty, fashion, elegance, and grace which cen- 
time at "Washington during the full tide of legislative business, 
that I left the city with regret. For the first thirty miles of 
the journey, and until the morning light streamed through the 
windows of the car, I was but half awake. I had confused 
visions of presidents, embassadors, governors, generals, colo- 



\20 LIFE AND LinEKTY IN AMERICA. 

nols. jiuliios, mombiM-s of CongiTPS, scorotarios of s(a(o, editors 
of lu'WspaiHMs, boaiititnl wonion, ami paintod saAam's, toiiia- 
liaAvks ill liaiul, and scalps around their t^houlderj', all nun<;ling 
and mixing together in snturnalian dance, Ungeringat times to 
ilrink my health in bumpers of Catawba, and then all melting 
away into empty air. At last we stopped at the Kelay House, 
and onr engine letting olV steam banished IVoni my ha/y mem- 
ory these dim and blurred recollections of the j)ast. 

From AVashington to the Eolay House the road runs north- 
east throvigh a portion of INIaryland. At this ]H)iiit,at a dis- 
tance of nine miles from Baltimore, the rails from AVasliington 
and Baltimore unite. The road then strikes duo "west to 
Harper's Ferry, where it enters the Stale of Virginia — so 
named after Queen Elizabetli. In lliis land of newness, Avhcro 
even such modern antiquity is something to be jiroud of, the 
A'irgiuians designate their connnonwealth by the pet name of 
"the Old Dominion," and love to trace their descent from 
Englishmen of the days of Shakspeare and the Stuarts. At 
Harper's Ferry the Shenandoah Kiver unites with the Poto- 
mac, and the railway crosses the united stream by a line bridge 
of nine hundred feet in length, and tlieu runs through a pic- 
turesque moimtain gxirge for several miles, the Potomac foam- 
ing and llowing beneath, and steep, ])recipitous rocks rising 
grandly on either side. From tliis point to the little city of 
Cumberland — famous for its productive coal-mines, and situ- 
ated high amid the ridges of the Alleghany Mountains — the 
sciMiery olfers a constant succession of beauties and sublimities. 
'Die engineering dilficulties that have been surmounted by the 
projectors and builders of this line are only ecpialeil in Europe 
by the famous railway from Vienna to Trieste across the Sim- 
mering Alps. r>ut with the Austrian line the Haltimore and 
Ohio Kaihvay may well stand comparison. The passage of 
the Alleghanies is as noble an exhibition of skill and enter- 
prise as .the passage of the Styrian Alps ; and the rapid de- 
scent of the nu>imtaiu, within a few miles of Wheeling, 379 
miles from lialtimore, is a much greater feat than any thing 
of the kind attempted on any other railway in the Ihiited 
States. I was unfortunate enough to travel over the most 
sublime portion of the road in the niglit, and thus to lo.^^e the 



FKOM WASHINGTON TO CINCINNATI. 121 

opportunity of describing from personal experience the scenery 
of the All(!;^liuni(S. From wix in the morning until diirk in 
the evening wc jna<le only 178 niilcs; and when we reached 
busy a,nd smoky Curnlx;rlan<l nestled amid the mountains, the 
sun was setting in such a blaze of glory as to prompt tlie de- 
sire to wait for his reappearance in the cast ere we recom- 
menced our journey. 15ut tliis was not to be. It was dark 
niglit when we reaciied Altaniont, forty-five miles farther, and 
learned from the guide-book, and the not \(iry communicative 
or urbane conductor of our train, that we were at the cul- 
minating point of the line, and at a height of 2C2G feet above 
tide-water at IJaltimore. From Altaniont to Wheeling, on 
the liiver Ohio, a distance of 15G miles, the descent is not 
much less than 2400 feet. The road crosses several rivers — 
among others, the rapid and rejoicing Youghiogheny ; the falls 
of Snowy Creek ; the Cheat Kiver, 310 feet wide ; the beau- 
tiful Monongahela (giving its name to some famous ]mt very 
bad whisky), which is crossed by a viaduct 050 feet long ; and 
the Fish Creek, a tortuous mountain stream which makes so 
many twists and windings ere it reaches the Ohio that the 
makers of the railway found it necessary to cross it no less 
than eight times on substantial bridges before they could leave 
it behind them. As for the tunnels on this road, their name 
is legion — one of them, the Kingwood Tunnel, being a cut of 
4100 feet through the solid rock ; and the Welling Tunnel, 
1250 feet. 

]5ut the raj)id descent of the line from the lower sum- 
mit of the Alleghany liidge to Benwood on the Ohio, four 
miles from Wheeling, is the most marvelous portion of the 
journey. The descent is effected by a series of zigzags, first 
down an inclined j)lane for several himdred yards, then back 
again down another inclined plane of equal or greater length, 
then forward once more on the same pi-incijde, then back 
again, and so on until the base of the mountain is reached — 
the locomotive and its train literally going down stairs. 
Should any one who reads these i)ages ever travel on thi-i 
line, let him travel by daylight if he wishes to see this mar- 
velous descent and some of the fines( hcenc ry in America. 

F 



122 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

We arrived at the little clingy, dull city of Wlieeling, in 
Western Virginia, before daylight on Sunday morning, and 
found that we could get no farther until Monday. Here we 
were saluted by the first snow of the season, and severally 
hastened to our beds to snatch the sleep which it is next to 
impossible to win, or even to woo, in a hot, frowsy, uncom- 
fortable railway car, containing from fifty to sixty people, and 
a demoniacal furnace burning anthracite coal. Without a 
proper place to stow away one's hat ; with no convenience 
even to repose the head or back, except to the ordinary height 
of a chair ; with a current of cold outer air continually stream- 
ing in, and rendered necessary by the sulphurous heat of the 
furnace ; and with the constant slamming of the doors at either 
end of the car, as the conductor goes in and out, or some 
weary passenger steps on to the platform to have a smoke, 
the passenger must, indeed, be " dead beat" who can sleep or 
even doze in a railway car in America. For these reasons 
right glad Avere we to reach Wheeling, and for these reasons 
we postponed the pleasure of making any more intimate ac- 
quaintance with it than sheets and pillows would afford until 
the hour of noon. 

At length, refreshed by sleep, by ablution, and by break- 
fast, we sallied forth to look at the town and at the Ohio. 
The town was covered with a dense smoke — for it burns soft 
coal, and has several large manufactories of nails, screws, and 
other useful articles of iron — and some of its tall chimneys 
continue to vomit forth soot even on the day of rest. It is 
not to be inferred from this that work is done in Wheeling on 
the Sunday, but only that the fires are not extinguished. Fer- 
liaps this is only to save the trouble of rekindling on the Mon- 
day, for coal is so plentiful and cheap as to be retailed at one 
cent and a half (three farthings) a bushel. This cheapness, 
however, did not prevent our host at the hotel from putting 
down in the bill one dollar (four shillings and twopence) for 
the consumption in our room of less than half a bushel of the 
commodity, which dollar I paid, after being assured, in answer 
to a suggestion to that effect Avhich I threw out for our host's 
consideration, that it was not a mistake, but the regular 
charce. 



FROM WASHINGTON TO CINCINNATI, 123 

The Ohio Eiver is a yellow and turbid stream, bearing 
down in its broad and rapid curi'ent countless particles of fine 
yellow sand and clay, which it washes daily, nightly, and hour- 
ly from its soft, rich banks. It is crossed at AVheeling by a 
fine suspension bridge, erected on the site of one still finer, 
which was blown down by a hurricane two years ago. The 
immediate banks of the river at this point are not steep. 
Eanges of hills, crowned with wood, rise on either side, within 
a short distance, to the height of several hundred feet, and 
suggest, with the sole exception that there are no ruined cas- 
tles, the picturesque beauties of the Rhine. There is almost 
daily steam-boat communication between Wheeling and Cin- 
cinnati, but, as the distance by water between the two points, 
in consequence of the many windings of the river, is about 
GOO miles, and that by railway only 240, most travelers who 
are pressed for time choose the latter and more expeditious 
j'oute. As this was our condition, we started at 11 o'clock 
on Monday morning by the rail, and reached the Burnet 
House, Cincinnati, at 10 at night. We found rooms prepared 
for our reception, fires lighted, supper ready, excellent Cataw- 
ba, and a cordial welcome from Colonel Coleman, the land- 
lord of one of the largest, most noted, and most luxurious 
hotels in America. 

The suspension bridge at Wheeling divides Western Vir- 
ginia from the State of Ohio or the Buckeye State. This 
name was given to it in derision, but was afterAvard adopted 
by the people of Ohio, and changed from a phrase of contempt 
into one of endearment. A citizen of Ohio is a Buckeye. 
Meeting an Englishman settled in Ohio, who presented to me 
his three daughters, I inquired if they were English. " No," 
he replied, " they are Buckeyes." And what, it may be ask- 
ed, is the meaning of the word ? Buckeye is a species of wild 
chestnut, which grows so plentifully in every part of the state 
as to be its one pervading and prevailing tree. Its fruit bears 
a fancied resemblance to the eye of the buck or fawn, and 
hence its name. Both the leaves and the fruit are poisonous 
to cattle ; but in this respect, like the human creatures who 
love tobacco, and chew it, they persist in indulging themselves 



124 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

with what is not good 'for them to such an extent that the 
larmcrs of Ohio detest the tree as a public nuisance, and woukl 
be glad if it coukl be totally extirpated, to make room for some 
other of greater utility and with fewer demerits. And doubt- 
less the farmers will have their way sooner or later. 

The snow which had fallen during the night had all disap- 
peared before we entered the State of Ohio. The day was mild 
and genial, and the sun shone brilliantly. The soil as far as 
Columbus, the capital, a distance of 120 miles, is one deep, rich, 
soft stratum of disintegrated limestone, so fertile that for forty 
years, without change of crop, or the use of the smallest par- 
ticle of manure, it has continued to grow maize, or Indian corn, 
in such immense quantities, that the crops rot upon the earth 
for want of hands to gather in the hai'vest. In this month of 
January many thousands of acres of produce are still unhar- 
vested ; and the cattle, looking like pigmies amid the lofty 
stalks of twelve or fourteen feet high, are turned in to feed at 
their leisure and their pleasure. The land rolls in beautiful 
swelling hills, fit for the cultivation of the vine, and already 
crowned witli many noble vineyards. From Columbus to Cin- 
cinnati — another ride of 140 miles — the country is of the same 
rich, fertile, and beautiful character — so beautiful, so rich, so 
well calculated for the happy sustenance of twenty or thirty 
millions of the human race, instead of two millions only who 
now inhabit and endeavor to cultivate it, as to recall the say- 
ing of the governor of the neighboring State of Indiana, who 
declared, with a profanity which drew upon him a clerical re- 
buke, that " the Almighty must have been in a good humor 
when he created Indiana and Ohio." This commonwealth is 
nearly as large as England, and has natural resources enabling 
it to feed as great a population as that of the Bi-itish Isles. 
It is the favorite resort of the German immigration, and is es- 
.timated to number about 500,000 of that people, of whom 
about one fourth are Jews. 



"the queen city of the west." 125 



CHAPTER XVI. 

"the queen citv of the west." 

Cincinnati, January 27, 18^8. 

Cincinnati is ns yet the greatest city of the "Great West." 
How long it will remain so .depends on the progress of popu- 
lation in Missouri, and in the city of St. Louis, on the Missis- 
sippi, which many persons who fancy they look " ahead" mucli 
farther than their neighbors declai-e to be the central city of 
the Confederation, and the future capital of the United States. 
But a few years ago, Cincinnati was the Ultima Thule of civ- 
ilization. All beyond it was wilderness and prairie. Behind 
it stretched tlie unbroken forest, Avhcrc the Ecd Man prowled, 
tomahawk in hand, or the illimitable plains, where roared and 
fed countless herds of scarcely more savage bufllaloes. The 
man is yet living, in hale old age, who felled the first tree in 
Ohio, and helped to clear the ground on which now stands 
what its inhabitants call the " Queen City of the West." 
Cincinnati is estimated to have a population of nearly 250,000 
souls ; contains miles of well-built and handsome streets, many 
stores, banks, and warehouses, public institutions, worthy by 
their architectural beauty to adorn any metropolis in the world, 
and about one hundred churches, chajiels, and synagogues. Of 
the churches but two have any pretensions to elegance or 
splendor. One is the Episcopal Church, as yet imfinished ; and 
the other the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. Peter's, built 
of white freestone, and deserving to rank among the finest 
ecclesiastical edifices in America. 

The original name of Cincinnati is said by the original set- 
tlers, and such of their descendants as can carry their memo- 
ries back to such remote antiquity, to have been Losantivillc. 
It was the intention of the first immigrants and backwoods- 
men to build a city at North Bend, eighteen miles higher up 
the river. But Fate and Love (for there is a love-story in 



126 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

the history) Avilled it otherwise. The United States' officer 
in command at North Bend having become enamored of the 
young -wife of an ohl pioneer, the lady was removed by her 
husband to Fort Washington, where Cincinnati now stands. 
The gallant ollicer followed shoi'tly afterward, and reported 
officially that Fort Washington, and not North ]5end, was the 
proper site for a military station and city. His influence or 
his reasons prevailed. North IJend Avas abandoned, and Fort 
Washington became the site of the future city of Cincinnati, 
or, as the Americans generally pronounce it, Sinsnahta. The 
name was changed a short time after its foundation to that 
which it now bears, in honor of the society of " the Cincin- 
nati." It is the sixth city of tlie Union for population, wealth, 
and commerce, ranking immediately after New York, Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore, Boston, and New Orleans. It is crowned 
with a coronal of perpetual and very dense black smoke, so 
black and dense as almost to hide it from the vicAv of the spec- 
tator passing over in the ferry-boat to the Kentucky shore,or 
looking down upon it fronrthe adjacent height of Mount Adams 
and the hill of the Observatory. Next to Manchester and the 
great manufacturing towns of Yorkshire, Lancasliire, and Staf- 
fordshire, it may be called the smokiest city in the world, and 
in this respect far murkier than London, and far murkier than 
any city ought to be allowed to remain in a civilized country, 
and in an age of scientific progress and sanatory improvement. 
But, disagreeable as the smoke of Cincinnati may be, it aftbrds 
an unmistakable proof of its industrial and commercial activ- 
ity. The city contains several large manufactories of railway 
cars and locomotives ; a distillery, which produces whisky and 
alcohol at the rate of 2500 barrels per week, a large proportion 
of which lately found its way to France, to aid in the manu- 
facture of " native" cogniac ; two or three manufactories of 
household furniture for the supply of the " Far West ;" and 
many minor establishments for the manufacture of agricultural 
implements and tools. 

But the chief wealth of Cincinnati is derived from the hogs 
raised in the rich agricultural districts of Ohio, and slaughter- 
ed here to the number of about 600,000 annually. The 



"the queen city of the west." 127 

slaughter-houses arc the great curiosities of the place ; but, 
having a respect for hog as an article of diet, and relishing, at 
iitting seasons, both the ham and the rasher of bacon, I would 
not impair that respect or diminish that relish by witnessing 
the wholesale slaughter of the animal, however scientifically 
the slaughtering might be effected. I therefore left the 
slaughter-houses unvisitcd, contented to believe, upon hearsay, 
the marvelous tales which arc related of the dexterity of the 
slaughterers, who, armed with heavy hammers, which they 
hold in both hands, are sometimes known to stun as many as 
sixty hogs in a minute, leaving them in that state to an as- 
sistant butcher, who, with almost equal rapidity, follows in 
their wake, and cuts their throats before they have time to re- 
cover from the stunning blow and vent their alarm by a sin- 
gle shriek. The 000,000 hogs slaughtered in the city are 
converted into packed mei'chandise with less noise than often 
attends the killing of one porker in the farmsteads of England. 
From the moment when the hog received the first liammer- 
stroke until it was singed, cleaned, cut up, placed in brine, and 
packed in a cask for exportation, not more than two hours 
were formerly suffei-ed to elapse. But this celerity, being 
unnatural, led to mischief. Hie poi'k, drowned in brine be- 
fore it had time to become cold, caused a fermentation in the 
pickle, and this fermentation, in its turn, caused a disease in 
the pork which was called measles, and which, whether de- 
serving or not of this appellation, rendered it unwholesome. 
Much injury was thus done to the trade. The cause of the 
mischief was fully reported upon by the British consul at New 
Orleans ; and the men of Cincinnati, made wise by experience, 
now stay their hands and allow the pork to cool before they 
pickle it. 

All Cincinnati is redolent of swine. Swine prowl about the 
streets and act the part of scavengers until they are ready to be- 
come merchandise and visit Europe. Swine are driven into 
it daily and hourly by every avenue, but not one of them ever 
goes out again alive. Barrels of them line all the quays ; 
cartloads of their carcasses traverse the city at all seasons; and 
palaces and villas are built, and vineyards and orchards culti- 



128 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

vatcd, out of the proceeds of their flesh, their bones, their lard, 
their bristles, and their feet. 

In the early days of the pork trade, the feet and entrails of 
the swine were cast as rubbish on to the quays and streets, or 
swept into the waters of the Ohio, to be thence transferred, 
via the Mississippi, into the Gulf of Mexico. But the Cincin- 
natians have learned more wisdom, and not the smallest por- 
tion of <he animal Is now allowed to be wasted. Tlie entrails 
arc boiled into lard ; the feet are prepared as an article of 
food, or stewed into glue ; and the blood, cai'cfully collected, 
is used for various chemical purposes, besides being employed 
in the manufacture of black-puddings for home consumption. 
The average value of the hog before he is slaughtered is about 
ten dollars, or £2 sterling, so that from this soui'ce alone one 
million and a quarter sterling is annually brought into the 
purses of the farmers and people of Ohio and of its chief com- 
mercial city of Cincinnati. So plentiful are swine in Ohio, so 
much more plentiful and cheap in some parts than coals, that 
ere now pork has been bui'ned instead of fuel to keep up the 
fires of steam-boats on the Ohio. Only three days ago I read 
a newspaper paragraph in reprobation of such cruel extrav- 
agance. 

Another source of wealth has recently been developed in 
Ohio, chiefly by the skill, enterprise, and public spirit of one 
man, Mr. Nicholas Longworth, to whom America owes the 
introduction of the grape culture for the purpose of wine- 
making. 

With its endless varieties of soil, and with climates of all 
degrees of heat and cold ; in some parts sunny as Naples, 
Spain, and Barbary, and in others as temperate as France and 
Germany, it was to be expected that America possessed one 
or more indigenous grapes. Mr. Longworth, of whom and of 
whose exertions in the cause of temperance and of good wine 
I might say much more than space and time will allow, has 
calculated that the varieties of grapes in America amount to 
no less than the almost incredible number of five thousand. 
But no one knew how to turn the boundless treasure to proper 
account, for the production of it lay npon the surface, but 



"the queen city of the west." 129 

might as well have been like the pearls that Gray sings of — 
perdu in the dark, unfiitlionied caves of ocean, until Mr. Long- 
worth appeared. And then the hills gushed into fertility, and 
the world received the gift of Catawba. 

The earliest mention of the vine in America dates as far 
back as 1564, when wines were made both in Florida and 
Louisiana. The Jesuits — men with keen eyes to spy out the 
fatness of the land, and who, in all countries, have proved 
themselves skillful cultivators of the soil, were among the first 
to appropriate good locations to themselves and to plant vine- 
yards. Unluckily, the French government of that day, through 
a stupid feeling of jealousy, ordered all the vineyards of Lou- 
isiana to be destroyed, lest American wines sliould compete 
injuriously with those of France in the markets of the world. 
Were it not for this barbarous folly, the Southern States of 
the Union might long ago have produced wine as well as cot- 
ton, rice, and sugar. But, in consequence of the absolute 
nature of the prohibition, the vineyards were abandoned, and 
the wild grapes of the North American continent were left to 
their own vagrant flxncies, to be eaten by the wolf and the fox, 
or the lied Indian, undisturbed by the care or the pruning- 
knlfe of tlie vintager, 

John Bull loves his beer, and cares but little for wine. 
When he can afford the juice of the grape, he likes it strong. 
There was a time, if we are to rely upon tradition, and upon 
the evidence of old songs and ballads, when the favorite drink 
of the upper classes was claret ; and next to claret, Burgundy. 
But the famous treaty concluded with Portugal in 1759, and 
known as the Methuen Treaty, introduced unsuspecting Jolm 
to a new and more potent beverage called Port, and vitiated 
the national taste. Most peo])le remember the epigram as 
regards the effect which Port wine had upon the Scotch : 

"Firm and erect the Caledonian stood, 
Ilis meat was mutton, and his claret good. 
'Let him drink Port !' the British statesman cried: 
He drank the poison, and his spirit died !" 

John Bull is now, unluckily, so accustomed to the full-bodied, 
brandied wines of Portugal and Spain, that he does not ap- 

F2 



130 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

predate the light, harmless wines of France and Germany. 
As for the wines of Cincinnati, scarcely one Englishman in 
ten thousand has ever heard of them. The late Duke of 
Wellington, who, if we are to believe some of his over-ardent 
admirei'S, knew every thing, and was as universal a genius as 
Shakspeare, was in this respect in advance of his countrymen. 
He had tasted Catawba wine ; for, when a gentleman from 
Cincinnati was introduced to him two years before he died, 
he said, " Oh, I know Cincinnati. It is the residence of Miss 
Groesbeck, and is famous for Sparkling Catawba ; Catawba's 
a good wine !" 

It Avas not until the year 1799 that the grape culture ex- 
cited much attention in America. Shortly before that time 
the wild " sand" grape, that grew on the banks of the Ohio 
in great profusion, was subjected to the wine-press by some 
French settlers in the Marietta District. This wine, even 
at that early period, was pi'onounced to be almost equal to 
Rhenish. The late Mr. John Dufour, one of the Swiss pi- 
oneers who emigrated to America in 1805, improved upon the 
efforts of his predecessor. But the progress of the new thing 
was slow, and it was not till some years after the death of this 
gentleman that the real Bacchus of the West appeared in the 
person of Mr. Nicholas Longworth, of Cincinnati — a man 
whom the Greeks would have apotheosized ; and who, if he 
had lived two thousand years ago, and done as much for his 
country and the woi'ld as he has done in our day, would have 
been ranked among heroes and demi-gods, and loomed largely 
on our imaginations thi'ough the haze and mist of antiquity. 
Like Bacchus of old, he has taught the people how to cultivate 
and press the grape, and to use it for health, and strength, and 
length of days. Mr. Longworth, considering the variety of 
soil and climate in America, and the abundance of wild grapes 
that grow from Virginia southward and westward, arrived at 
the conclusion — which proved to be a sound one — that if Avine 
could be produced in the Old World, it could also be produced 
in the New. Thirty or forty years ago he made some experi- 
ments with French and German grapes, but they were failures, 
as many great enterprises are at their commencement. In a 



"the queen city of the west." 131 

letter to the Cincinnati Horticultural Society dated three years 
back, he says, "I have for thirty years experimented on the 
foreign grape, both for the table and for wine. In the accli- 
mation of plants I do not believe, for the White Sweet Water 
does not succeed as well with me as it did thirty years since. 
I obtained a large variety of French grapes from Mr. Loubat 
many years since. They wore from the vicinity of Paris and 
Bordeaux. From Madeira I obtained six thousand vines of 
their best wine grapes. Not one was found worthy of cultiva- 
tion in this latitude, and all were rooted from the vineyards. 
As a last experiment, I imported seven thousand vines from 
the mountains of Sura, in the vicinity of Salins, in France. 
At that point the vine region suddenly ends, and many vines 
are there cultivated on the north side of the mountain, where 
the ground is covered with snow the whole winter long, from 
three to four feet deep. Nearly all lived, and embraced about 
twenty varieties of the most celebrated wine grapes of France. 
But, after a trial of five years, I was obliged to throw them 
all away. I also imported samples of wine made from-all the 
grapes of Europe. One variety alone — the celebrated Arbois 
wine, which partakes slightly of Cliampagne character — would 
compete with our Catawba." 

The results of Mr. Longworth's hopeful perseverance, in- 
domitable energy, and long experience, not only in his own 
city and neighborhood jof Cincinnati, but elsewhere on the 
American continent, were, that he abandoned the European 
grape, and selected out of the 5000 indigenous varieties eighty- 
three. From those eighty-three he again selected twelve as 
alone fit for the production of Avine. These twelve were the 
Catawba, the Cape, the Isabella, the Bland's Madeira, the 
Oliio, the Lenoir, the Missouri, the Norton's Seedling, the 
.Herbemont's Madeira, the Minor Seedling, the White Cataw- 
ba, and the Mammoth Catawba. 

Having resolved to concentrate his attention upon Cataw- 
ba, with its rich muscadine flavor, first found growing on the 
banks of the Catawba River in Carolina, he succeeded, about 
ten years ago, in producing out of it the Sparkling Catawba 
wine, which competent judges, who have tasted all the wines 



132 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

of the world, declare to be equal to any sparkling wines which 
Europe can boast, whether they come from the Ehine or the 
Moselle, or from the Champagne districts of France. Per- 
haps these pages will be the first intimation that the English 
people will receive of the existence of this bounty of nature ; 
but there is no risk of false prophecy in the prediction here 
hazarded, that not many years will elapse before both the dry 
and tlie sparkUng Catawba wiU be recognized in Europe, as 
they are in America, as among the purest of all wines, except 
claret and Burgundy. No red wines of any great delicacy or 
value have been produced in Ohio, or any other state of the 
Union ; but Mr. Longworth, Mr. Robert Buchanan, INIr.Wcrk, 
and other eminent growers near Cincinnati, are of opinion 
that wines equal both to red and white Burgundy will be 
successfully grown in Ohio, South Carolina, and California. 
As yet there are no symptoms in America that the clarets of 
France will ever be surpassed or equaled. But for different 
is it with French Champagne, who as the Queen of Wines 
must yield her sceptre and throne to one purer and brighter 
than she, who sits on the banks of the Ohio, and whom Mr. 
Longworth serves as chief adviser and prime minister. 

Longfellow, worthy to celebrate the wines of Longworth, 
sings of Catawba : 

"This song of mine 
Is .a song of the vine, 
To be sung by the glowing embers 
Of wavside inns 
When the rain begins 
To darken the drear Novembers. 
* * * * 

"For richest and best 
Is the wine of the West, 
That grows by the beautiful river. 
Whose sweet perfume 
Fills all the room 
With a benison on the giver." 

JVIr. Longfellow maintains, ■u'ith all the fervor of an Amer- 
ican as well as of a poet, that European wines are drugged 
and poisoned; that Port burns, and is the mother of po- 
dasra ; that sherry is a sham, and that Champagne is a vile 



"the queen city of the west." 133 

concoction, born of turnips and of gooseberries, not of the 
vine : 

"Drugged is their juice 
For foreign use, 
When shijiped o'er the reeling Atlantic, 
To rack our brains 
With the fever j)ains 
That have driven the Old World frantic. 
* * * * 

"To the sewers and sinks 
With all such drinks, 
And after them tumble the mixer!" 

But not so -vN-ith Catawba ; for Catawba is pure. Hear, ye 
lovers of wholesome drink, another ditty from a native of the 
Old Country, Avho knOAVs how to appi'eciate the dainty lux- 
uries of the New : 

CATAWBA WINE. 

"Ohio's green hill-tops 

Glow bright in the sun, 
And yield us more treasure 

Than Eliine or Garonne; 
They give us Catawba, 

The pure and the true, 
As radiant as sunlight, 

As soft as the dew, 
And fragrant as gardens 

When summer is new : 
Of all the glad vintage 

The purest and best, 
Catawba the nectar 

And balm of the West I 

" Champagne is too often 

A trickster malign. 
That flows from the apple, 

And not from the vine. 
But thou, my Catawba, 

Art mild as a rose. 
And sweet as the lijis 

Of my love, when they close 
To give back the kisses 

My passion bestows. 
Tliou'rt born of the vintage, 

And fed on its breast, 
Catawba the nectar 

And balm of the West ! 



134 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

"When pledging the lovely, 

This sparliler we'll kiss ; 
When drinking to true hearts, 

We'll toast them in this ; 
For Catawba is like them, 

Though tender, yet strong, 
As pleasant as morning. 

And soft as a song, 
Whose delicate beauty 

The echoes prolong. 
Catawba ! Heart-warmer ! 

Soul-cheerer ! Life-zest ! 
Catawba tlie nectar 

And balm of the West !" 

Mr. Longworth's son-in-law kindly gave our party an invi- 
tation to accompany him on a visit to the vineyards. They 
are situated on a hill-top and slope overlooking the windings 
of the beautiful Ohio — beautiful at a distance, but somewhat 
thick and turbid on a close inspection. We there found an 
old soldier of Napoleon, from Saxe- Weimar, who fought at 
Waterloo, and afterward retired to his native fields to culti- 
vate the vine. Mr. Longworth having sent to Europe for per- 
sons skilled in the manufacture of lihenish and Moselle wines, 
had the fortune to discover this excellent old man, good sol- 
dier, and skillful vintager. Soon after his arrival he was 
placed in the responsible position of chief wine-maker and su- 
perintendent under Mr. Longworth. Under tlie guidance of 
this venerable gentleman — Mr. Christian Schnicke — we trav- 
ersed the vineyards, learned the dithculties he had surmount- 
ed and yet hoped to surmount; the varieties of gi-ape on 
which he had made experiments ; the names of the wines he 
had succeeded in producing, and the number of acres that, 
year after year, he brought under cultivation. We ended by 
repairing to his domicil, on the crown of the hill, where he 
set before us bread and cheese, and a whole constellation of 
native wines. Among others were Dry Catawba and Spark- 
ling Catawba, both excellent ; a not very palatable wine pro- 
duced from grapes imported from the Cape of Good Hope ; 
and two other wines almost equal to Catawba itself — one from 
the grape called the Isabella, rosy-red as the morning, and 



"the queen city of the west." 137 

sparkling as the laughtei* of a child ; the other a dry wine, 
of a pale amber color, clear, odoriferous, and of most delicate 
flavor, and almost equal to Johannisberger. This wine, it 
appeared, had not arrived at the honors of a name ; was not 
known to commerce ; and was simply designated by Mr. 
Schnicke as the wine of the Minor Seedling grape. As so 
excellent a beverage could not .remain forever without a name, 
it received one on this occasion in the manner recorded by 
Colonel Fuller in the following extract from a letter to the 
New Orleans Picayune : " On visiting Mr. Longworth's vine- 
yard in the neighborhood of Cincinnati, vineyards which yield 
from six to seven hundred gallons to the acre, we found the 
'boss' to be an old soldier of Napoleon the Great, and as de- 
voted to the memory of the emperor as he is enthusiastic in 
the culture of the vine. Producing a very choice brand of 
the color of amber, and with a bouquet that filled the room, 
called the wine of the Minor Seedling, objection was taken to 
the name, but not to the article ; so it was there and then 
christened 'Mackay' wine, in honor of the poet who was 
present. Mr. Longworth afterward confirmed the new name 
in a prose as well as a poetical epistle." 

It is, to some extent, owing to the increase of the cultiva- 
tion of the vine in Ohio that so many Germans have settled 
in Cincinnati and the neighborhood. There are about fifty 
thousand of these people in the city, of whom one fourth are 
Jews. The Germans inhabit a district of their own, over the 
Miami Canal, which runs through a district of Cincinnati. 
To this canal they have given the name of the Rhine, and on 
its banks they have erected concert-gardens such as they have 
in Germany. Here, embowered unter den Lauhen, they con- 
gregate on Sunday evenings, the old stagers with wooden 
shoes on their feet and night-caps on their heads, and the 
young in a more cosmopolitan costume, to drink lager beer, 
smoke long pipes, and sing the songs of *' Fatherland." They 
have also erected a German theatre, established German 
schools, and one or two, if not more, German newspapers. 

It should not be omitted from this record of Catawba and 
the vintage of America that Mr. Longworth was the first friend 



138 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

of Mr. Hiram Powers, so -well known as the sculptor of the 
" Clrcek Shivc." JNlr. Powers, as he takes pleasure in remem- 
bering, Avas greatly aided in the early struggles of his profes- 
' I..V sional career by Mr. Longworth/^ Nor is Hiram Powers the 
^1 ^ only artist whom the Western Bacchus has befriended, for 
I r*** JNIr. Longworth uses his great wealth to noble purposes, and 
^^'"nevcr more willingly than in aiding the artist of genius up 
^ those few iirst steps of the ladiler of fame Axhich it is ahvays 
difficult, and sometimes impossible, to climb. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI. 

St. Loui.s Jan. 31st, IB.'SS. 
Westwakd — ever westward ! After no less than foiu- ac- 
cidents to our train on the Ohio and Mississippi Railway, hap- 
pily involving no other evil consequences than the smashing 
of the company's engine and two or three cars, the sacrifice of 
many valuable hours, and the loss of an amount of patience 
dillicult to estimate, though once possessed by all the passen- 
gers, myself included, we arrived at the miserable village, 
though called a city, of Jeffersonville, in Indiana, nearly oppo- 
site to Louisville, in Kentucky, on the River Ohio. The train 
was due at an early hour of the afternoon, but did not reach 
Jeffersonville until half past nine in the evening, long before 
which time the steam ferry-boat had ceased to ply, and the 
captain of which refused to relight the fires of his engines to 
carry the passengers across. AVe saw the lights of the large 
city gloaming temptingly across the stream, but there being 
no means of conveyance, we were all reluctantly compelled 
to betake ourselves to the best inn at Jeffersonville, and bad, 
very bad, was the best. AVe had had nothing to eat or to 
drink all day, in consequence of the accident to our train hav- 
ing befallen us in an out-of-the-way place, and in the verj'- 
heart of the wilderness ; and such of us as Avcre not teetotal- 
ers looked forwai'd to a comfortable supper and glass of wine, 
or toddy, after our fatigue and disappointments. But, on ask- 



ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI. 139 

ing for supper and wine at the hotel, we were told by mine 
host that we were in a temperance state, and that nothing in 
the way of drink would be served except milk, tea, coffee, and 
lemonade. A thoughtful friend at Cincinnati had given us on 
starting a bottle of Bourbon whisky twenty years old ; and 
we told mine host that, if he would provide us with glasses, 
hot water, sugar, and a corkscrew, we should enjoy his meat, 
find our own drink, and set Fate at defiance. Hot water he 
had, glasses he had, sugar he had, but no corkscrew. Under 
the circumstances, he advised us cither to bi'eak off the neck 
of the bottle, or go round to the shop of the apothecary in the 
adjoining street. He thought that personage would be able 
to draAV the cork for us, or " loan" or sell us a corkscrew. 
Colonel Fuller and myself held a council of war, and resolved, 
lest we should waste the liquor, to make friends with the 
apothecary. A corkscrew was procured from that respecta- 
ble practitioner — not borrowed, but bought and paid for, and 
after a fair supper, and some excellent toddy, we turned into 
our miserable beds. Next morning at an early hour, glad to 
leave JefFersonville and all that belonged to it, we crossed in 
the steamer to Louisville, and once more found ourselves in a 
land of plenty and comfort, in a flourishing city, in an excel- 
lent hotel — the " Gait House," one of the best conducted es- 
tablishments in America ; in a state where the Maine Liquor 
Law was only known by name, and Avhcre it was not neces- 
sary to go to the apothecary's shop to obtain, by a sneaking, 
hypocritical, false pretense, the glass of wine, beer, or spirits 
that custom, taste, health, or absolute free-will and pleasure 
demanded. 

Louisville is the principal commercial city of the State of 
Kentucky, well situated on the Ohio, and having direct com- 
munication with the Mississippi, and with all the immense in- 
ternal navigation of these great rivers. It contains a popula- 
tion of upward of G0,000, and next to Cincinnati, which it as- 
pires to rival, is the greatest emporium of the pork trade on 
the North American continent. The annual number of hogs 
slaughtered here is nearly 300,000, and is yearly increasing. 

On the second night after our arrival, I and my fellow-trav- 



140 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

cler were alarmed several hours after we had retired to rest 
by the loud cry of" Fire ! fire !" several times repeated in the 
lobby adjoining our rooms. I rushed out of bed, opened the 
door, and saw a negro woman rushing frantically past. She 
called "Fire! fire!" and passed out of sight. Another door 
was opened, and a woman's voice exclaimed, " It is not in the 
Gait House ; there's no danger !" In the mean time, as quick 
as thought, an uproar of bells and the rattle of engines were 
heard ; and knowing how frequent fires were in America, and 
how much more frequent at hotels than in other places, we 
prepared oui'selves to escape. But, by the blaze that suddenly 
illumined our bedrooms, we saw that the conflagration was 
at the opposite " block" or row of buildings, at a manufactory 
of naphtha and other distilled spirits. The fire raged till long 
after daylight, and all efforts to subdue it being utterly futile, 
the " boys" Avith the engines directed their energies to save 
the adjoining buildings, in Avhich they happily succeeded. At 
breakfast in the morning we learned from the negro waiter 
who attended us that the fire had proved fatal to his good mas- 
ter. The landlord of the hotel had lain for three days previ- 
ously at the point of death, and the noise and alarm created 
by the fire, and the dread lest it should extend to his premises, 
had acted so powerfully on his Aveakened frame that he had 
expired in a paroxysm caused by the excitement. 

There is nothing to detain a traveler in Louisville unless it 
be private friendship and hospitality, of both of which we had 
our share. After three days we took our departure for St. 
Louis, but found it as difficult to quit Louisville as it had been 
to arrive at it. We crossed to Jeflfbrsonville to take the train 
for the INIississippi, and were in the cars Avithin ten minutes 
of the appointed time. AVe had not proceeded fi\e hundred 
yards from the "depot," or station, Avhen our locomotiA'^e, 
Avhich happily had not put on all its steam, ran off" the rails, 
and stuck hard and dry upon the embankment. Here Ave 
Avaited tAvo hours in hope of assistance, but none being forth- 
coming, Ave made the best of the calamity, and returned to our 
old quarters at Louisville for another day. On the mon-OAv 
Avc again started for the same place ; but this time being more 



ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI. 141 

successful, we arrived, traveling at the rate of not more than 
foui'teen miles an hour, at the bank of the great river Missis- 
sippi. For a week previously I had been looking forward 
with pleasant anticipation to the first glimpse of the " Father 
of Waters." 15ut at this point the scenery is not picturesque. 
The shores arc low. Hat, and unvaried by the slightest eleva- 
tion ; but the stream itself — broad, rapid, and tui'bid, and 
swarming with steam-boats and river craft — has associations 
of wealth and power which go far to make amends for the ab- 
sence of natural beauty. Cincinnati was at no remote period 
the Ultima Thule of civilization, and the farthest city of the 
West. I5at in America the " West" is very diiricult to fix. 
Ask the pco[)lc of Cinciimati, and they will tell you it is at 
St. Louis. At St. Louis it is in the new territory of Kansas. 
At Kansas it is at Utah, the paradise of the Mormons. At 
Utah the West is in Oregon ; and at Oregon it is in Califor- 
nia or Vancouver's Island, and (he shores of the Pacific Ocean. 
Every one remembers Pope's line — 

" Ask whcrc's the North ? At York, 'tis on the Tweed ;" 

and how he ends by giving up the inquiry in despair of an an- 
swer, looking for it only 

" In Nova Zembla or the Lord knows where." 

Li America the true West is quite as difficult to " locate," and 
is pushed so far from one ocean toward the other, by the rest- 
less love of adventure, by the auri sacra fames, and by the 
" go-ahead-ativeness" characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon race 
on this continent, that West and East melt insensibly into 
each other, and the ultra-occidentalist finds himself looking at 
China and Japan in the Far East before he is aware that he 
has reached the limit of his researches. 

St. Louis remains, next to Cincinnati, the greatest city of 
the West ; but, as its growth has been more rapid than that 
of its sister on the Ohio, and as it contains within itself far 
greater elements of prosperity and increase, it is likely, within 
a few years, to surpass it in trade, population, and extent. It 
is already the largest and most flourishing place between Cin- 



142 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

cinnati and San Francisco, and will, in all probability, Avithin 
a quarter of a century contain and employ half a million of 
people. It is situated on the Mississippi, about twenty miles 
below the point at which that river, pure and lucent in all its 
upper course, receives the dark and mviddy waters of the Mis- 
souri. It was founded so early as the year 174G, by Laclede, 
a Frenchman, and named in honor of St. Louis of France, or, 
as some say, of Louis XV., who, though a Louis, was assure 
edly no saint. Until its transfer to the United States in 1804, 
it remained a village of a few log huts, inhabited by trappers, 
who traded with the red men for the spoils of the forest, 
exchanging bad rum and execrable brandy for peltiy, and de- 
testable muskets, warranted not to go off, for furs that sold 
exceedingly well in the markets of Europe. The first brick 
house in St. Louis was built in 1813 ; and the first steam-boat 
arrived at its levee, or quay, in 1817, having taken six weeks 
to ascend the Mississippi. This voyage is now performed in 
six days ; but, before the introduction of steam, when flat- 
bottomed boats were rowed, or otherwise painfully propelled 
up the stream, it occupied fi'om six to seven months. After 
all, America need not crow so very loudly over the " Old 
Country." It is steam that has been the making of them both, 
and given them their Avonderful impulse. Were it not for 
steam, what would be England's place in the world? And 
were it not for steam, what would the United States of Amer- 
ica be ? England would be better off than the United States 
as regards wealth and population, and civilized America would 
be a mere strip on the seaboard, as it was in the days of Wash- 
ington, when it took months to go up and down the Mississippi, 
and Avhen a man might lose not only his time, but his scalp, 
in the perilous adventure. It Avas not until 1820, when the 
population of St. Louis was under 5000, that the place became 
of any importance. TAventy years afterAvard the population 
reached 17,000. In 1852 it exceeded 100,000, and in 1857 
it was variously estimated at from 150,000 to 180,000. It is 
still i-apidly increasing. English, Irish, German, and the sur- 
plus population of such old states and communities as Massa- 
chusetts, Connecticut, and others in New England, continually 



ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI. 143 

flock into it, and beyond it, to add to its wealth, and to de- 
velop the resources of the great and fertile regions lying be- 
tween the Mississippi and the liocky Mountains, and the re- 
mote sources of the Missouri. Men are still living in the city, 
owners of " town lots," for which they paid, forty years ago, 
the government price of one dollar and a quarter per acre. 
These lots, in consequence of the enormous rise in the value 
of real estate, are not to be obtained at the present day under 
six hundred or sometimes one thousand dollars per foot front- 
age, and ;ire covered witli noble buildings and lines of com- 
mercial palaces. These prosperous citizens and millionaires 
deserve their good fortune ; and if there be any who envy them, 
they go out into the back woods, still farther west, in the hope 
that equal luck will attend their own speculations in land and 
their own conflicts with the border savages. Such men are 
the pioneers of civilization, and bear the brunt and heat of the 
battle. In early life they hold their lands on the sufferance 
of the Indians, and have to guard their possessions like be- 
leaguered fortresses in an enemy's country, Avith the war- 
whoop ringing in their ears, and the mui'dcrous tomahawk 
suspended continually over their heads. 

St. Louis, via Washington and Cincinnati, is about 1200 
miles from New York, 20 miles below the mouth of tlie Mis- 
souri, and 171 miles above the junction of the Ohio with the 
Mississipi^i. Above, it commands the navigation of the Mis- 
souri for nearly 2000 miles, and of the Mississippi to the Falls 
of St. Anthony for 750. liclow, it commands the Mississippi 
for 1295 miles to New Orleans, and from New Orleans to the 
Gulf of IMcxico, 91 miles. J^esides this extent of direct riv- 
erine traffic, it commands that of the various tributaries of the 
Mississippi ; rivers, many of them larger than the Rhine or 
the Danube, such as the Ohio, navigable from its junction with 
the Mississippi at Cairo, to Pittsburgh, in Peinisylvania, a dis- 
tance of 1000 miles ; the lied River, navigable for 1 100 miles ; 
the White River, for 400 miles ; the Tennessee, for GOO miles ; 
the Cumbei-land, for 300 miles ; the Wabash, for 300 miles ; 
and many others inferior in length or importance to these, but 
navigable for a hundred or two hundred miles beyond the 



l-l-i LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

jioitit of their confluence Avith the larger streams to which they 
run. 

The Icvcc of St. Louis extends along the right bank of the 
Mississippi for nearly six miles, about half of which length is 
densely built upon. No city in the world oilers to the ga/.c of 
the spectators such a vast assemblage of river steam-boats. 
As many as one hundred and seventy, loading and indoading, 
have been counted along the levee at one lime. These ves- 
sels, which, like all those that ply on the IMississippi and the 
Ohio, are of peculiar construction, painted white, and with two 
tall black funnels, arc built for internal t rathe, and would play 
but a sorry part in the salt water if the wind blew ever so 
little. But for riverine purposes they are admirable, and, 
were it not for the occasional mischance of a collision in the 
fog, or the still more frequent casualty of a blow-up from the 
bursting of a boiler, would alford the traveler the safest, as 
they do the pleasantcst, mode of conveyance in America. The 
people of St. Louis arc as proud of their steam-boats as of 
their city. One of them, in conversation with a ncAvly-arrived 
emigrant from the '' Old Country," who had discoursed too 
AvcU and too wisely to please his listener on the wealth, pow- 
er, and greatness of England, put a stop to all farther argu- 
ment by exclaiming, like a man of large ideas, " Darn your 
little island ! when I Avas there I found it so little I was 
afecrd I should tumble olf. Look you, sirree ! Avc've steam- 
boats enough at St. Louis to tow Great Britain out into the 
Atlantic and stick her fast — opposite New York harbor!" 
But, as just observed, these steamers ai'c but frail allliirs, and 
one hour of an Atlantic storm would be sulhcient to make 
Avrccks of all that ever plied or ever Avill ply upon the drundy 
bosom of the " Father of Waters." ILad the " Britisher" thus 
rebuked possessed ideas conunensuratc Avith those of his 
Yankee friend, he might have rejoined that it Avould take the 
combined strength of all the steamers betAA'cen St. Louis and 
New Orleans to tOAV the Great Eastern from Dover to Calais, 
and that the Avhole fleet AA'ould in all probability perish in the 
gigantic attemi)t. 

For steam tonnaire it is estimaled that St. Louis is the thirtl 



ST. LOUIB, MISSOUEI. 145 

city in the Union. New York rankis first, with a tonnage in 
the year 1854 of 101,478; New Orleans second, Avith a ton- 
nage of 57,147; and St. Louis third, with a tonnage little in- 
ferior to that of New Orleans itself, amounting to 48,557. 
The manufactures of 8t. Ivouis are numerous and important, 
and comprise twenty flour-mills, about the same number of 
saw-mills, twenty-five fbundcries, engine and boiler manufac- 
tories and machine-sliops, eight or ten establishments engaged 
in the manufacture of railroad cars and locomotives, besides 
several chemical, soap, and candle works, and a celebrated 
type foundery, which supplies the whole of the Far West with 
the types that are absolutely necessary to the creation of all 
new cities in the wilderness. A church, a forge, a hotel, and 
a daily newspaper — with these four, aided by a doctor or two, 
and as many lawyers and bankers, a newly-named city will 
take its place on the map, and speculators who have bought 
land at a dollar and a quarter per acre will look to make their 
fortunes by siin})ly holding on to their purchase until streets 
run over their grounds, and they become in America such men 
as the Duke of Bedford, Lord Portman, and the Marquis of 
Westminster arc in London, and Lord Derby in his town of 
Preston. 

St. Louis contains two theatres, and the two finest lecture- 
rooms in the United States. The upper and lower rooms of 
the Mercantile Library Association are um-ivalcd for this pui'- 
pose ; and neither New York nor Boston contains any lecture- 
rooms at all to be compared to them for elegance of construc- 
tion and decoration, or adaptability to the end proposed. 

The city contains at most times a large floating population 
of Englishmen — of a class that America is not very anxious 
to receive, and is at this moment somewhat puzzled what to 
do with — the Mormon emigration. These fanatics, who are 
mostly recruited from the manufacturing districts of Wales 
and the north and middle of England, with a few from Scot- 
land, make St. Louis their resting-place, on their way from 
New York to the Salt Lake City, and recruit both their ener- 
gies and their finances before starting on their long and peril- 
ous overland pilgiimage to TJtah. They generally remain 

G 



146 LIFE AND LIBERTY IX AMERICA. 

here for a year, and, being for the most part expert handi- 
craftsmen or mechanics, they manage -without much dithcuhy 
to procure emjtlovment. Those who have no trades set up 
small grocery stores, or betake themselves to the easy, and, in 
America, most protitable occupation, of hackney-coach drivers. 
Horses are cheap ; horse-feed is cheap ; but riding in car- 
riages in every part of the ITnion i^ most exorbitantly dear. 
The Jehus, having no la^v to control them, and no fear of po- 
liceman or magisti'ate before their eyes, charge exactly what 
they please. To drive from a steam-boat to a hotel that may 
happen to be less than a hundred yards distant is seldom to 
be accomplished tmder a dollar ; and a drive which in London 
would be overpaid at two shillings, costs two dollars in any 
American city except Boston, which in this respect is a city 
of law and order, and an example to the whole of the Union. 
Either at this profession or some other the INIormons make 
money, and generally depart from St. Louis well laden with 
the spoils of the Gentiles, leaving the next batch from En- 
gland to imitate their example. 

The mineral resources of St. Louis and the State of Mis- 
souri are abundant. About eighty miles to the westAvard of 
St. Louis, on a line of railway which is nearly completed, exist 
two hills or '' mountains" of iron ore. One is called the Iron 
Mountain, and the other the Pilot Knob. The base of the 
L'on Mountain, in the country of St. Francis, covers an area 
of about five hundred acres. It rises to a height of about 270 
feet, and is estimated to contain above the surface no less than 
200 millions of tons of iron ore, yielding from sixty-eight to 
seventy per cent, of pure iron. The ore below the surface is 
probably quite as abundant. Over an area of 20,000 acres, 
in the plain from the midst of which this singular mountain 
rises, are scattered huge blocks of similar formation, some of 
them sharp-pointed and pyramidal, and deeply imbedded in 
the earth ; others, unshapely and cumbrous, are lying loose 
upon the soil, and seeming as if they had dropped from the 
moon, or Avere the disjecta mcmhra of some broken asteroid 
wandering in too close proximity to the sphei'e of the earth's 
attraction, and dashed to pieces in their fall against the snpe- 



THE MORMONS. 147 

nor planet, where they have at length found a resting-place. 
The Pilot Knob is eight miles further to the west of St. Louis, 
and rises to the height of seven hundred feet. It contains 
quite as large an amount of iron ore as the Iron Mountain, 
though the percentage of pure iron differs by one or two de- 
grees. There is a third hill in the vicinity, called the Shep- 
herd Mountain, which is almost equally rich in iron ; besides 
a plateau covered with loose iron ore, whicli is to be gathered 
in nuggets and blocks fi'Oin the weight of one or two pounds 
to lumps of three and four hundred. As Missouri possesses 
coal as well as iron, these mountains will in due time make 
her richer than if she possessed all the gold of California or 
Australia. Several blast-furnaces have been at full work in 
this region for the last four years, and many more are in proc- 
ess of erection. 

The country around St. Louis contains not only these im- 
mense quantities of iron, but large mines of copper and lead, 
and some excellent quarries of what has been called " Mis- 
souri marble." Many of the puljlic buildings in St. Louis are 
composed of this stone, which is of a brownish-gray color, and 
susceptible of a high polish. Altogether St. Louis is one of 
the most flourishing places in America. It is full of life and 
activity, but too densely covered with a pall of smoke to be a 
very agreeable abode fcJr more than a day or two to the trav- 
eler who journeys either for health or recreation. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE MORMONS. 



St. Louis, February, 1858. 
The collision between the goveniment of the United States 
and the singular theocracy of tlie Mormons, which has estab- 
lished itself in the Great Salt Lake Valley, under the presi- 
dency of Brigham Young, and which took place in the "fall" 
of last year, was inevitable, sooner or later. The United 
States proclaim perfect liberty of religion — perfect liberty 
even of the grossest superstition and fanaticism — so that 



148 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Brigham Young and his apostles and elders may, if it so please 
them, and if they can afford the extravagance, indulge them- 
selves with a hundred wives apiece, and exclaim, like their 
kindred Mohammedans, that " God is great, and Joe Smith is 
his prophet !" without forl'eiting thereby the right of the Ter- 
ritory of Utah or Deseret to be admitted in due time, with its 
own laws, religion, and customs, among the sovereign repub- 
lics of the United States. Brigham Young, the choice of the 
people, was for many years, dc jure as well as de facto, the 
Governor of Utah, and as fully entitled to be so as the re- 
spective Governors of New York, Massachusetts, Virginia, 
Pennsylvania, or any other state, are to administer the laws of 
those commonwealths. It would have been well if the ques- 
tion had been left in that state for twenty or thirty years — if 
the Mormons had been allowed, in the wilderness where they 
have fixed their abode, to govern themselves in their' own way, 
and to give their knavish and disgusting superstition rope 
enough to hang itself. It was highly desirable for a thousand 
reasons that no violence should be done, or seem to be done, 
to that great principle of religious freedom and equality which 
the founders of the Union established. Unfortunately, how- 
ever, the question was hurried forward with vuidue and un- 
wise haste. From small beginnings the Mormons have grown 
into a large community ; and from equally small beginnings 
of interference the government of the United States Avas drawn 
on, step after step, to assume a position with respect to them 
from which there was no honorable escape on either side. To 
do the Mormons justice — and, much as the world must loathe 
their filthy doctrine, they are entitled to fair consideration — 
they did their utmost to avoid collision. When their pre- 
tended prophet was cruelly and treacherously murdered by a 
gang of bloodthirsty ruffians, and elevated into the dignity of 
martyrdom ; when they Avere driven from one settlement to 
another, and finally expelled from Nauvoo, their new Zion — 
they Avithdrew beyond the Rocky IMountains, that they might 
be out of the way of all neighbors — that they might live Avith 
a belt of Avilderness around them, and wive, thrive, Avork, and 
worship after their oAvn fashion. But it was not decreed that 
they should remain in this state of isolation. 



THE MORMOlSrS. 149 

Deseret, or Utah, is in the high road from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific. The discovery of gold in California, which was 
partly due to Mormon agency, has made their territory a sta- 
tion, through which the civilization and the trade of the At- 
lantic sea-board must pour to the sea-board of the Pacific, and 
drawn them into that community of Anglo-Saxon nations with 
whom they have so little in common but their industry, their 
pluck, and their mother tongue. The inevitable collision was 
thus hastened. The Mormons refused obedience to the laws 
of the United States ; drove from their territory the officers 
of the supreme government legally appointed ; overruled the 
authoi-ity of the President and Congress of the United States 
— by the mere will of Brigham Young, a theocrat and a des-. 
pot, as well as the choice of the people — and rendered it im^ 
possible for the government at Washington, without loss of 
dignity and sacrifice of principle, to do other than enforce 
obedience by the strong arm of physical force. If left alone, 
Mormonism, like other mischiefs and absurdities, might have 
died out, and given the world no farther trouble. But it is 
the fortune or the fatality of religions, new or old, and of 
forms of faith of every kind, that they thrive upon obstruction 
and hostility. Nothing in its previous history did so much 
for Mormonism as the murder of Joe Smith. 

The next great aid and impetus which their cause received 
was the savage expulsion of the Mormons from Missouri, and 
their exodus, in the midst of a severe winter, with their goods 
and chattels, their plows, their oxen and their kine, their 
wives and their children, across the wilderness for upward of 
two thousand miles, and through the gorges of the Rocky 
Mountains to the Great Salt Lake, where they succeeded in 
establishing themselves, amid dangers and difficulties unparal- 
leled in histoiy. It only needed a hostile collision with the 
army of the United States to make Mormonism a still greater 
fact than it is, and to establish it, perhaps, too firmly to be 
shaken. The United States government sent, late last au- 
tumn, a small force of only 2500 men, of whom only one half 
were really available, to reduce the fanatics to obedience ; and 
the Mormons, in a rude, wild country, defended by mountain 



150 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

passes, in which a hundred men might destroy an invading 
force of fifty times their number, resolved to do battle against 
their assailants. Upon the rule that all is fair in w^ar, the 
Mormons engaged the Indian tribes in their defense. Seventy- 
five wagons, containing the stores and provisions of the United 
States' army, fell into their hands ; they burnt up all the grass 
and every green thing for two hundred miles on the route 
which the soldiers had to take ; and, animated with the fiercest 
spirit of resistance, they organized a force, independent of their 
Indian auxiliaries, three times as numerous as that of their 
invaders. Every man capable of bearing arms was enrolled ; 
and they had a mounted troop of shepherds, huntsmen, and 
others, well skilled in the use of the rifle, every man of whom 
knew all the mountain passes and gorges, of Avhich their ad- 
versaries were totally ignorant. But, after a great show of 
resistance and still greater bluster, the Mormons, finding the 
ultimate hopelessness of the struggle, unexpectedly made a 
quasi submission at the last moment ; find the United States' 
government, glad of an opportunity to end this impolitic 
struggle, appointed another governor — not a Mormon — in the 
room of lirigham Young. Thus did President Buchanan and 
his cabinet retire from a false position. 

To coerce the Mormons into submission, and to compel 
them to conform to the laws of that great Union of which 
their territory forms a part, may or may not have been a de- 
sirable object to attempt ; but to have made the attempt and 
failed would have been a political and social crime of the 
highest magnitude. Its results would have fanned the flame 
of Mormon fanaticism and audacity, and brought into their 
ranks a whole army of scamps, filibusters, and soldiers of for- 
tune ready to fight for any cause that promised pay, promo- 
tion, and power, and that added the additional inducement, 
potent with such scoundrels, of a harem with as many wives 
as Brigham Young or Ileber Kimbal. The United States, 
having entered upon this war, Avere bound to conquer ; but it 
can scarcely be asserted by the warmest friends of the admin- 
istration that the victory Avas a brilliant one for the federal 
government. The struggle Avill be renewed at a future time. 



FROM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS. 151 

There is no room for such fanatics in the United States terri- 
tory, wide as it is, and they must " clear out" as civilization 
spreads westward. Whether their next home will be in Mex- 
ico or in Bi'itish territory is impossible to predict. They are 
certainly not wanted on British ground ; and Mexico would 
not be the worse of their company, but might probably be the 
better for the infusion of a little more vigorous blood, and of a 
new superstition not more degrading than its own. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

FROM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS. 

New Orleans, Feb. 20, 1858. 
On leaving St. Louis our sensations were not of the most 
agreeable kind. Two days previously the steamer Colonel 
Grossman had burst her boiler near a place called New Madrid, 
several hundred miles down the river, and the papers were 
filled with accounts of the calamity, and with long lists of the 
killed and wounded. As we drove down to the levee to se- 
cure our state-rooms on board of the Philadelphia, the Irish 
newsboys thrust into our hands the St. Louis Republican of that 
morning, bawling out, " Horrible accident ! bursting of the 
Colonel Crossman — fifty people killed !" This was not pleas- 
ant; but all the passengers — there were sixty or seventy of 
us — consoled themselves with the hope that such a calamity 
would endow with extra caution, for at least a month to come, 
every captain, pilot, engineer, and stoker on the Mississippi. 
And so we took our voyage, satisfied that our captain was 
" clever" both in the English and the American sense of the 
word, and that the clerk, the next in authority, was equally so. 
The crew and stokers were all negro slaves ; and this was a 
circumstance to be deplored perhaps, but not to be remedied ; 
for the recklessness of the negroes — recklessness caused not by 
wickedness, but by want of thought, want of responsibility, 
and want of moral dignity, consequent upon the state of slave- 
Yj — is doubtless one cause, among many, of the frequency of 



152 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

accidents in all the waters where they form the crews of the 
navigating vessels. 

"We had on board the Philadelphia at starting from the levee 
1000 head of chickens, 400 turkeys, 1100 sheep, 180 hogs, 
2000 barrels of flour, 1990 sacks of corn, 400 barrels of pork, 
besides two or three hundred bales of hemp and cotton, and a 
load of fuel. In traveling for such long distances in the United 
States, any one from England who has journeyed for even a 
thousand or five hundred miles on the Continent of Europe is 
impressed not alone Avith the comfort and freedom of being 
able to go so far Avithout that curse of our old and, in some 
respects, semi-barbarous civilization — the passport, with its 
foes and its vises, its delays and its obstructions, and its often 
insolent and always greedy gendarmerie and officials, but with 
the unvarying sameness of aspect presented by the landscape, 
the cities, and the people. There is little that is picturesque 
on the great lines of travel, for the Ohio and Mississippi are 
but monstrous drains. 

The Mississippi flows through a loose, soft soil, and a flat 
woody country, with here and there a bluff or headland of red- 
dish sandstone. But even these breaks to the prevailing uni- 
formity are unknoAvn at the last twelve hundred miles of its 
monotonous course. The cities, too, appear to be all built 
upon the same model. The long rectangular streets, the mon- 
ster quadrangular hotels, the neat new chapels and flaring 
stores, seem repeated every where, with little or no valuations 
of aggregate or detail, and the people have the same look, the 
same swagger, the same costume, the same speech, so that the 
traveler, not being startled at CA'ery hundred or two hundred 
miles of his course, as in Europe, by the apparition of a new 
uniform, a new style of building, by being addressed in a new 
language by waiters or officials, or by seeing new and imfa- 
miliar names over the shop doors and at the corners of the 
streets, forgets the enormousness of the distances that he is 
passing through, or only remembers them by their tedious- 
ness. But, though the scenery of the Mississippi has but lit- 
tle attraction after the first few hours, the incidents that oc- 
cur by day and night are novel enough to interest and instruct 



mm^imfu" 




FROM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS. 155 

every traveler who has his eyes open and his wits about him. 
And foremost among these incidents are the lading or discharg- 
ing of cargo, and the taking in of wood. The steamers inva- 
riably burn wood, for coal is too dear for this purpose. On 
either bank of the Mississippi, as the traveler is borne down 
its steady current, he may observe at every four or five miles' 
distance piles of wood. These are cut by the negroes for their 
masters, the owners of the forests and the plantations, and 
heaped near the shore for the convenience of the steamers. 
When a steamer requires wood, it touches at any one of these 
points, takes what it wants, and either leaves the money or a 
note of what has been taken, to be settled hereaftei'. Some- 
times the planter will be glad to take corn or pork in ex- 
change ; and if it be inconvenient to him to leave a negro or 
any other person in charge to take the chance of a passing 
boat, he leaves a notification of his wants and wishes on the 
pile of wood, and the captain, if it be possible, complies with 
his wishes. If not, he leaves a memorandum stating the rea- 
son why, and a note for the money — perhaps the money it- 
self. When the operation of taking in wood is performed at 
night, it is picturesque in the extreme. The steamer rests 
with her prow upon the bank ; a plank is laid from the lower 
deck to the shore ; an iron stove, hoisted up on an iron pole, 
is filled with fire, which burns merrily, and casts its red flick- 
ering glow upon the rapidly descending current, and a gang 
of negroes, singing at their work, pass on shore and return 
laden with logs of Cottonwood and cypress, and pile it upon 
the deck ready for the all-devouring furnace. In five or six 
hours it will need a fresh supply, and the operation will be 
repeated at least thirty or forty times in the 1200 miles. The 
fuel bill for the voyage between St. Louis and New Orleans 
averages, down stream, about 1000 dollars, or £200, and for 
the upward voyage about 250 dollars more. 

All travelers have heard much of the "snags" and the 
" sawyers" upon the Mississippi. A snag is an agglomeration 
of trunks and branches of trees, borne down by the ever- vary- 
ing current of the river, that is continually encroaching either 
on the left bank or on the right, and sometimes on the one 



156 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

curve and sometimes on the other, and washing away the trees 
that grow too near to the margin. A sawyer is a single trunk 
that has been fixed diagonally by the action of the stream. If 
an ascending vessel happens in the dark to run against one of 
these formidable instruments of destruction, she may be ripped 
up in her whole length before there is time to stop the engine. 
We on our voyage experienced no difficulties from either of 
these sources of evil. Every year they are becoming of less 
frequent occurrence, the United States government having es- 
tablished a series of flat-bottomed steamers expressly to dredge 
for, collect, and carry away these disjecta membra. But the 
snags and sawyers, though no longer so formidable or so many 
as in the days of yore, are still numerous enough to tax all the 
vigilance of the pilots and captains of the Mississippi boats, 
especially when ascending the stream. Our course was down- 
ward, and for that reason the less dangerous. 

Another peculiarity of the Mississippi is its numerous beds 
and curves, to which may be added the bayous, or streams, 
running out of instead of into the main current, thus reversing 
the process to which we are accustomed in the Old World, 
where the small streams feed the large ones. For many hund- 
red miles the Mississippi flows upon a ridge above the adjoin- 
ing country, and, breaking loose now and then, lets off a por- 
tion of its superabundant waters into the lower region, form- 
ing a stream called a bayou, that is largest near its source, 
and smallest at its termination. The bayous often end in 
stagnant pools, the haunt of the alligator, and the hot-beds of 
fever and malaria. The bends of the river may be under- 
stood in their pattern, but not in their magnitude and multi- 
tudinousness, by any one who has stood upon the battlements 
of Stirling Castle, and seen " the mazy Forth unraveled." 
At one place a canal of less than two miles has been con- 
structed, which saves a navigation of upward of twenty miles ; 
and occasionally, after heavy falls of rain, the stream itself, 
making a new channel across slight obstruction, forsakes its 
devious Avays, and goes directly to its purpose miles adown. 
But the Mississippi is one of the most shifting of rivers, al- 
ways eating away its own banks, flooding the country at one 



FROM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS. 157 

side, and leaving it dry on the other, and next day taking a 
fancy to return to its old bed, in obedience to some inscruta- 
ble law which in its results looks more like caprice than order. 

When we left St. Louis, the Mississippi, or, as the people 
call it familiarly and affectionately, the " Mississip," was cov- 
ered with floating ice. Two days before we arrived at New 
Orleans we steamed into another climate — warm, balmy, and 
delicious as England is in the first week of June. 

The following rhymed version of our seven days' adven- 
tures on the bosom of the "Father of Waters" was written 
during the voyage. The verses have the merit of fidelity to 
the truth in all their incidents and descriptions of scenery. 
It may be said of them, even by their author, that they help- 
ed in their composition to beguile the monotony of a very 
long voyage of 1295 miles, and that, if they yield no amuse- 
ment to the reader, they yielded some to the writer : 

"DOWN THE 'MISSISSIP.' 
r. 

" 'Twas a wintry morning, as the clock struck ten, 

That we left St. Louis, two dejected men ; 

Gazing on the river, thick with yellow mud, 

And dreaming of disaster, fire, and fog, and flood ; 

Of boilers ever bursting, of snags that break the wheel. 

And sawyers ripping steam-boats through all their length of keel : 

Yet, on shipboard stepping, we dismissed our fears, 

And beheld through sunlight, in the upper spheres, 

Little cheriibs, waving high their golden wings, 

Guarding us from evil and its hidden springs ; 

So on Heaven reliant, thinking of our weans, 

Thinking of our true-loves, we sailed for New Orleans : 

Southward, ever southward, in our gallant ship, 

Floating, steaming, panting, down the Mississip. 

II. 
" Oh, the hapless river ! in its early run 

Clear as molten crystal, sparkling in the sun ; 

Ere the fierce Missouri rolls its troublous tide 

To pollute the beauty of his injured bride ; 

Like a bad companion poisoning a life, 

With a vile example and incessant strife ; 

So the Mississippi, lucent to the brim, 

Wedded to Missouri, takes her hue from him ; 

And is pure no longer, but with sullen haste 

Journeys to the ocean a gladness gone to waste ; 



158 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Thus our idle fancies shaped themselves that day, 
Mid the bluffs and headlands, and the islets gray : 
Southward, ever southward, in our creaking ship, 
Steaming through the ice-drifts down the Mississip. 

III. 

"In our wake there followed, white as flakes of snow. 
Seven adventurous seagulls, floating to and fro, 
Diving for the bounty of the bread we threw, 
Dipping, curving, swerving — fishing as they flew — 
And in deep mid-current, thi'oned upon a snag, 
Far away — a rover from his native crag, 
Sat a stately eagle, Jove's imperial bird, 
Heedless of our presence, though he saw and heard ; 
Looking so contemptuous, that human nature sighed 
For a loaded rifle to slay him for his pride ; 
But superb, defiant, slowly at his ease, 
Spreading his wide pinions, he A^anished on the breeze ; 
Southward, flying southward, far beyond our ship, 
Floating, creaking, panting, doivn the Mississip. 

IV. 

"In a blaze of glory shone the sun that day ; 
In a blaze of beauty, fresh as flowery May, 
A maid from Alabama came tripping on the deck — 
Bright as heaven above us — pure without a speck. 
Singing songs till twilight freely as the lark 
That for inner gladness sings, though none may hark : 
Songs of young affection, mournful songs of home, 
Songs of happy sadness, when the fancies roam 
From th' oppressive Real to the fairy Far 
Shining through the Future, silvery as a star : 
And the sun departed in his crimson robe, 
Leaving Sleep, his viceroy, to refresh the globe. 
Thus we traveled southward in our gallant ship, 
Floating, drifting, dreaming, down the Mississip. 

V. 

"Brightly rose the moi'ning o'er the straggling town, 
Where the broad Ohio pours its ivaters down 
To the Mississippi, rolling as before, 
Seeming none the wider for increase of store ; 
And they said, ' These houses scattered on the strand 
Take their name fi'om Cairo, in the Eastern land, 
And shall be a city at some future day, 
Mightier than Cairo, dead and passed away.' 
And we thought it might be, as we gazed a while ; 
And Me thought it might not, ere we passed a mile : 
And our paddles paddled through the turbid stream 
As we floated downward in a golden dream ; 



FEOM ST. LOUIS TO NEW ORLEANS, 159 

Southward, ever southward, in our panting ship. 
Idling, dawdling, loafing, down the Mississip. 

VI. 

" Sometimes in Missouri we delayed an hour, 
Taking in a cargo — butter, corn, and flour ; 
Sometimes in Kentucky shipped a pile of logs, 
Sometimes sheep or turkeys, once a drove of hogs. 
Euthlessly the negroes drove them down the bank. 
Stubbornly the porkers eyed the narrow plank. 
Till at length, rebellious, snuffing danger near. 
They turned their long snouts landward, and grunted out then- fear. 
And the white-teethed 'niggers,' grinning with delight, 
Eode them and bestrode them, and charged them in the fight ! 
And then came shrill lamenting, and agony and wail, 
And pummeling, and hoisting, and tugging at the tail. 
Until the swine were conquered ; and southward passed our ship, 
Panting, steaming, snorting, down the Mississip. 

VII. 

" Thus flew by the slow hours till the afternoon, 
'Mid a wintry landscape and a sky like June ; 
And the mighty river, brown with clay and sand, 
Swept, in curves majestic, through the forest land, 
And stuck into its bosom, heaving fair and large, 
Many a lowly cypress that grew upon the marge — 
Stumps, and trunks, and branches, as maids might stick a pin, 
To vex the daring fingers that seek to venture in. 
O travelers ! bold travelers ! that roam in wild unrest, 
Beware the pins and brooches that guard this river's breast ! 
For danger ever follows the captain and the ship. 
Who scorn the snags and sawgers that gem the Mississip. 

Till. 

" Three days on the river — nights and mornings three, 
Ere we stopped at Memphis, the port of Tennessee, 
And wondered why they gave it such name of old i*enown — 
A dreary, dingy, muddy, melancholy town. 
But rich in bales of cotton, o'er all the landing spread. 
And bound for merry England, to earn the people's Ijread ; 
And here — oh ! shame to Freedom, that boasts with tongue and 

pen ! — 
We took on board a ' ' cargo " of miserable men ; 
A freight of human creatures, bartered, bought, and sold 
Like hogs, or sheep, or poultry — the living blood for gold ; 
And then I groaned remorseful, and thought, in pity strong, 
A curse might fall upon us for suftering the wrong — 
A curse upon the cargo, a curse upon the ship. 
Panting, moaning, groaning, down the Mississip* 

* This poem has been extensively copied into the American papers ; 



IGO LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 



" llorc our soujistor IKhI us. tho little gip-'y quocn, 
Leaviu}:; us a nuMuovy of jilailnoss that had heou, 
Ami thvouj;h the (.lark night passiug, dark without a ray, 
JSave tho liglu wo carried, we held ujiou our way ; 
Darkness on tho waters — darkness on the sky — 
liain-ttoods beating o'er us — wiKl winds howling high — 
l?ut, safely led and guided by pilots who could toll 
Tho pulses of tho river, us windiugs and its swell, 
Wiio knew its closest secrets by dark as well as light. 
Each I'lutV or fringing foivst, each swamp or looming height — 
Its gaud>ols and caprices, its current's steady law. 
And at tho fourth day dawning we skirted Arkansaw ; 
Southward, steering southward, in our trusty ship. 
Floating, skmiHitij, jHuttiiit/, Joivii tlw AlissUsij). 

X. 

*' Weary wore tho forests, dark on either side ; 
Weary wore tho marshes, stix'tchiiig far and wide ; 
Weary were the wood-piles, strewn njion the bank ; 
AVoary wore tho eane-grovos, growing wild and dank ; 
Weary wore tho tree-stumps, charred and black with fiiv ; 
AVeary was the wilderness, without a house or spire ; 
AVeary wen? the log huts, built upon tho sand ; 
AVeary were tho waters, weary was the laud ; 
AVeary was the cabin with its gilded wall, 
AVoary was the dock wo trod — weary — weary all : 
Nothing seemed so pleasant to hope for or to keep. 
Nothing in the wide world so beautiful as sleep. 
As we journeyed southward in our lazy ship. 
JAuvdiw);, idiin</, loajint/, dou-it the AlississijK 

XI. 

•' Ever in tho evening, as wo hurried by, 
Shone tho blaze of tbrests. red against tho sky — 
Forests burned for clearings, to spare the woodman's stroke, 
Cottonwood and cyi>ress, and ash and giant oak — 
And from sleep upsininging, when the morning came. 
Seemed the lengthening landscape evermore the same. 
Evermore tho forest aiul the rolling tlood. 
And tho sparse plantations and the fertile mud ; 
Thus wo can\e to Princeton, threading coimtloss isles ; 
Thus wo came to A'icksburg, thrice three hundivd miles; 
Thus we came to >Jatchez, when the starlight shone, 
Glad to SCO it — s;lad to leave it — sjlad to hurrv on — 



but it may bo mentioned as a sign of tho sensitiveness of public opinion 
<ni the subject of negro slavery tliat the eight lines n^ferring to the car- 
go of slaves were invariably omitted in all tlie journals except those of 
!Mass;\chusetts and the other New England States. 



FEOM ST. LOUIS TO KEW OKLEANS. 161 

Southward, ever soutlnvard, in our laden sliip, 
Fumiwj, toilimj, heaving, down the 3Iississij>. 

xir. 
" Whence the sound of music ? Whence the merry lauph ? 
Surely boon companions, wlio jest, and sing, and quaft'? 
No ! the slaves rejoicing — happier than the free, 
With guitar and banjo, and burst of revelry ! 
Hark the volleyed laughter ! hark tlie joyous shout ! 
Hark the nigger chorus ringing- sharply out ! 
Merry is the liondsman ; gloomy is his lord ; 
For merciful is Justice, and kind is Fate's award. 
And God, who ever tempers the winter to the shorn, 
Dulls the edge of sorrow to these His lambs forlorn. 
And gives them clieerful natures, and thoughts tliat never soar 
Into that dark to-morrow whicii wiser men deplore. 
So sing, ye careless negroes, in our joyous shjp, 
Floating/, stcuiniiKj, dancing, down (he Mississip. 

XIII. 

"At the sixth day dawning all around us lay 
Fog, and mist, and vapor, motionless and gray : 
Dimly stood the cane-swamps, dimly rolled the stream, 
Bayou-Sara's house-tops faded like a dream ; 
Nothing seemed substantial in the dreary fog — 
Nothing but our vessel drifting like a log : 
Not a breath of motion round our pathway blew — 
Idle was our pilot, idle were our crew — 
Idle were our paddles, idle free and slave — 
Every thing was idle but the restless wave, 
Bearing down the tribute of three thousand miles 
To the Southern Ocean and its Indian isles ; 
Thus all morn we lingered in our lazy ship, 
Dozing, dreaming, nodding, down the Mississip. 

XIV. 

"But ere noon, uprising, blew the southern breeze, 
Rolling off the vapor from the cypress-trees. 
Opening up the blue sky to the south and west, 
Driving off the white clouds from the river's breast ; 
Breathing in our faces, balmy, from the land, 
A roamer from tlie gardens, as all might understand ; 
Ilnppy as the swallows or cuckoos on the wing. 
We'd cheated Fatlier Winter, and sailed into the Spring ; 
And beheld it round us, with all its sounds and sights. 
Its odors and its balsams, its glories and delights — 
The green grass, green as England ; the apjile-trecs in bloom ; 
The waves alert with music, and freighted with perfume — 
As we journeyed southward in our gallant ship. 
Singing and rejoicing down the Mississijt. 



162 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

XV. 

*' On the seventh clay morning we entered New Orleans, 
The joyous 'Crescent City' — a Queen among the Queens — 
And saw her pleasant harbor alive with tapering spars — 
With ' union-jacks' from England, and flaunting ' stripes and stars,' 
And all her swarming levee, for miles npon the shore. 
Buzzing, humming, surging, with Trade's incessant roar ; 
With negroes hoisting liogsheads, and casks of pork and oil, 
Or rolling bales of cotton, and singing at their toil ; 
And downward — widening downward — the broad majestic river, 
Hasting not, nor lingering, but rolling on forever ; 
And here, from travel resting, in soft ambrosial hours. 
We plucked the growing orange, and gathered summer flowers, 
And thanked our trusty captain, our pilot, and our ship, 
For bearing us in sq/'eti/ down the Mississijj." 



CHAPTER XX. 

"the crescent city.' 



New Orleans, Feb. 25, 1858. 
In descending tlie great River Mississippi our anticipations 
of NcAV Orleans were of the most agreeable kind. We had no 
misgivings of plague or yellow fever, and dreaded far more 
the explosion or burning of the steam-boat to which we had 
intrusted the safety of our limbs and lives than any calamity 
attendant on the proverbial sickliness of the great city of the 
south. Nor is New Orleans more subject to the great scourge, 
of which the recollection is so intimately associated with its 
name, than Mobile, Charleston, Savannah, and other places 
in the same latitudes. The yellow fever, when it appears in 
the fullness of its ghastly majesty, generally affects the whole 
sea-board, and showers its unwelcome favors upon the just 
and upon the imjust, upon green and breezy Savannah as free- 
ly as upon the closely-packed lanes and alleys of the " Cres- 
cent City." But in winter, spring, and early summer. New 
Orleans is as healthy as London. These pleasant anticipations 
were not doomed to disappointment. New Orleans was in 
the full tide of its most brilliant season, and every thing and 
every body seemed devoted to enjoyment ; and, certainly, the 
contrast with the lands and the scenery which we had left a 



"the crescent city." 163 

week before was as agreeable as it was remarkable. On bid- 
cling farewell to St. Louis we left the winter behind us ; and 
on approaching Baton Rouge, the state capital of Louisiana, 
and within one hundred and twenty-five miles of New Or- 
leans, it was a physical as well as a mental luxury to note 
the difference of climate with Avhich a few days' voyage had 
made us acquainted. There were no more floating ice-fields 
on the Mississippi ; no more cold Avinds or leafless trees ; no 
more stunted brown and withered grass, such as that which 
had wearied our eyes for many hundreds of miles previously, 
but, by a transformation as complete and rapid as that in a 
fairy pantomime, the land was covered with all the beauty 
and glory of the early spring. The sky was of bright, un- 
clouded blue ; the grass beautifully green ; the plum, peach, 
and apple trees were in full and luxuriant bloom of white and 
purple ; and the breeze that blew in our faces came laden 
with the balm of roses and jessamines. The sugar planta- 
tions on either bank of the river, with the white houses of 
the proprietors, each in the midst of gardens, of which the 
orange-tree, the evergreen oak, the magnolia, and the cypress 
were the most conspicuous ornaments, gleamed so cheerily in 
the sunshine that we could not but rejoice that we had turn- 
ed our backs on the bitter north, and helped ourselves to an 
extra allowance of vernal enjoyment. For a few days it seem- 
ed like a realization of the poetical wish of Logan, in his well- 
known apostrophe to the cuckoo : 

" Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee ! 

We'd make with social wing 

Our annual visits o'er the globe, 

Companions of the spring." 

Steam was the cuckoo of this occasion — a cuckoo whose mo- 
notonous notes have in this land made the remotest wilder- 
nesses to smile with beauty and fertility. The simile may not 
be a very good one, but let it pass. The effect of the change 
of climate upon the spirits of all the passengers .was decided. 
The taciturn became talkative ; the reserved became commu- 
nicative. The man of monosyllables expanded into whole 
sentences ; and the ladies, like the flowers by the river side, 



161- LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEKICA, 

felt the bliind influence of the skies, and bloomed into fresher 
loveliness. The wearisome and apparently interminable for- 
ests of cypress and cottonwood, through Avhich our vessel had 
been steaming lor five days previously, were left far in our 
wake ; and the landscape around us was alive, not only with 
the bustle of commercial and agricultural business, but with 
all the exhilarating sights and sounds of that sweet season 
when nature leaps to the kisses of the sun. This was on the 
13th of Februaiy, the day before St. Valentine's. In England, 
in the ancient epoch of our traditional poetry, ere Cha\icer, the 
" morning star of song," had arisen upon our land, the anni- 
versaiy of St. Valentine, when the birds begin to choose their 
mates, was considered to be the first day of spring. May not 
the fact suggest a change of the seasons in the old land within 
the last five or six hundred years ? And may it not help to 
prove that the climate enjoyed by our forefathers in the twelfth 
century was similar to that which now blesses the people of 
the sunny South in the nineteenth? But, leaving this point 
to the curious and to the Aveatherwise, I must own that, while 
walking out on St. Valentine's-day in the beautiful green mead- 
ows near Algiers, on the side of the Mississippi opposite to 
New Orleans, I was vmgrateful enough to complain (to my- 
self) that something was wanting to complete my enjoyment. 
The homesickness was upon me, and I was dissatisfied with 
the green grass because there were no buttercups, daisies, cow- 
slips, or primroses among it. And here let me state that none 
of these flowers are to be found on the North American conti- 
nent except in conservatories, Avhere they are not exactly the 
same as our beautiful wild English varieties. But if there be 
no daisies, it must be confessed that tlicre are violets in the 
South, for I gathered bunches of them on the 14th of Febru- 
ary ; but, alas ! they had no scent, and did not betray them- 
selves by their fragrance before the eye was aware of their 
proximity, like the sweet violets of Europe. But then it may 
be said for Nature in these latitudes that she gives so much 
odor to the orange blossoms, the roses, the bay-spice, and the 
jessamines, as to have none to spare for such humble flowers 
as violets. Let me also confess, en passant (and still under a 



"the crescent city." 165 

qualm of the homesickness), that I found another deficiency, I 
will say defect, in the landscape, to which all the surpassing love- 
liness of the atmosphere failed to reconcile me, which was, that 
the air was silent, and that no skylai'ks, " true to the kindred 
points of heaven and home," sang in the blue heavens. There 
are no larks in North America, nor, as far as I have been able 
to discover, any other bird with a song as joyously beautiful 
and bountiful. America has the bluebird and the mocking- 
bird ; but those who love to hear the lays of that speck of de- 
licious music, that diamond-like gem of melody which twinkles 
in the " blue lift" and hails the early morn at heaven's gate, 
may expect the gratification in the Old World, but not in the 
New. 

I>ut this is a digression, and we have yet to reach New 
Orleans. For a distance of several hundred miles, where the 
river skirts the shores of the great cotton-growing states of 
Mississippi, Arkansas, and Tennessee, cotton plantations, with 
their negroes busy at work to feed the hungry mills of Lanca- 
shire, meet the eye on both sides of the stream. But on en- 
tering Louisiana the traveler sees that the cultivation of sugar 
replaces to a great extent that of cotton. I regret that I had 
not time or opportunity to visit either a sugar or cotton plant- 
ation on my way down the river, that I might have studied 
for a few days the relationship between the master and the 
slave, and have tested by my own experience the benevolent 
and patriarchal character, rightly or wrongfully, but univer- 
sally given to it in the South. But on this subject I shall 
possibly, with more experience, have something to say here- 
after. In the mean time I could but notice how little of this 
rich country was cultivated, and how thin a belt of land made 
profitable by the plow extended between the dark river and 
the darker forest which bounded the view on every side. But 
this belt is gi'adually widening. The axe and the torch are 
clearing the primeval forest ; and the cotton-growing states 
of Mississippi and Alabama, and the sugar-growing state of 
Louisiana, are annually adding to the wealth of America and 
of Great Britain l)y increasing the area of profitable culture, 
and developing the resources of a soil that contains within its 



166 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

bosom forlility enough to clothe find feed the whole population 
of Europe and America. The sugar plantations have seldom 
a river breadth of more than five acres, but they extend all 
but indelinilely into the forest beyond. Some of them reach 
for one mile, others for three or even ten miles, into the wil- 
derness of cyprcss-ti'ces and dismal swamps that for hundreds 
of miles fringe tlic shores of the " Father of AVatcrs." 

New Orleans stands on the left bank of the Mississippi, 
about a hundred miles from its mouths, on a crescent-like 
bend of the river, whence its name of the " Crescent City." 
By means of the continual deposits of the vast quantities of 
mud and sand which it holds in solution, and brings down 
from the great wilderness of the Far West, the Mississippi has 
raised its bed to a considerable height above the level of the 
surrounding country, and is embanked for hundreds of miles 
by earthen mounds or dikes, of six or eight feet in height, call- 
ed levees. This name was originally given by the French, 
and is still retained by the dwellers on the banks of the Mis- 
sissippi and Ohio. A levee of this kind protects New Orleans. 
As many parts of the city arc lower than the bed of the river, 
no portion of the drainage finds its way into what in other 
cities is the natural channel, but runs, from the direction of 
the stream, into the swamps of the lower country toward 
Lake rontchartrain. As there is very little fall in this direc- 
tion. New Orleans, as may be supposed, is ill drained. It is a 
matter of considerable difficulty and gi-eat expense to drain it, 
even as inefficiently as such untoward circumstances will al- 
low. AVhat drainage there is is upon the surface, and even at 
this early season of the year the smell affects painfully the ol- 
factory nerves of all who prefer the odors of the rose to those 
of the cesspool. The population of the city is about 120,000, 
of whom one half or more are alleged to be of French extrac- 
tion. The French call themselves, and are called, Creoles — a 
term that does not imply, as many peojile suppose, an admix- 
ture of black blood. Indeed, all persons of European descent 
born in this portion of America are strictly, according to the 
French meaning of the word, Creoles. New Orleans is less 
like an American city than any other in the United States, 



"the crescent city." 167 

and reminds the European traveler of Havre or Boulogne-sur- 
Mer. From the admixture of people speaking the English 
language it is most like Boulogne, but the characterislics of 
the streets and of the architecture are more like those of 
Havre. The two languages divide the city betvv^cen them. 
On 6ne side of the great bisecting avenue of Canal Street the 
shop-signs are in French, and every one speaks that language ; 
on the other side the shops and the language are English. 
On the French side are the Opera House, the restaurants, the 
cafes, and the shops of the modistes. On the English or 
American side are the great hotels, the banks, the Exchange, 
and the centre of business. There is one little peculiarity in 
New Orleans which deserves notice as characteristic of its 
French founders. In other American cities no effort of 
imagination is visible in the naming of streets. On the con- 
trary, there is in this respect an almost total absence of in- 
vention. New York, Philadel[)hia, Washington, Cincinnati, 
and St. Louis seem to have exliausted at a very early period 
of their histories the imagination or the gratitude of their 
builders. Street nomenclature has been consigned to the 
alphabet at Washington, where they have A Street, T> Street, 
C Street, D Street, etc. At Ncav York the streets are named 
from First Street up to One Hundred and Eighty-eighth or 
even to Two Hundredth Street. At Philadelphia imagina- 
tion in this particular matter seems to have reached its limit 
when it named some of the principal thoroughfares after the 
most noted and beautiful trees that floui'ished on the soil — 

"Walnut, Chestnut, Spruce, and Pine, 
Hickory, Sassafras, Oak, and Vine." 

Having stretched so £av, it could go no farther, and took ref- 
uge, as New York did, in simple arithmetic. At Cincinnati, 
where the same system prevails, the street-painters do not even 
take the trouble of adding the word street, but simply write 
Fourth or Fifth, as the case may be. In that pleasant and 
prosperous place you order an extortionate coach-driver to 
take you, not to Fourth Street, but to Fourth. Not so in 
New Orleans. The early French had greater fertility of fancy, 
and named their streets after the Muses and the Graces, the 



168 LIl-^E AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Nereids and the Oreads, the Dryads and the Hamadryads, and 
all the gods and goddesses of Olympus. Having exhausted 
their classic rcniinisccuccs, they next, as a gallant people, be- 
thought Ihcnisolvos of the names of their fair ladies — dames 
and demoiselles — and named some of the newer streets after 
the Adolcs, Julies, Maries, Alines, and Antoinettes, whom they 
held in love or reverence. When these failed they betook 
themselves to the names of eminent men — in their own and 
in ancient times — to those of Lafayette or Washington, or to 
the founders of New Orleans, the Carondelets and the Poy- 
dras. It is, perhaps, too late for New York and other great 
American cities to alter iho system they have established ; but 
to name a street after a public benefactor, a statesman, a war- 
rior, a philosopher, or a poet, or even after the INIuses and 
the Graces, seems pi'eferable to so tame antl prosaic a method 
of nomenclature as that ailbrded by the alphabet or the mul- 
tiplication table. 

The most j)romincnt public building in New Orleans is the 
St. Charles Hotel, an edifice somewhat in the style and ap- 
pearance of the Palace of the King of the Belgians at Brus- 
sels. During the twelve days that our party remained under 
its hospitable roof it contained from seven hundred to seven 
hundred and fifty guests, and its grand entrance-hall, where 
the gentlemen congregate from nine in the morning till eleven 
or twelve at night, to read the newspapers, to smoke, to chew, 
and, let me add, to spit, presented a scene of bustle and ani- 
mation which can be conii)arcd to nothing but the Bourse at 
Paris during the full tide of business, when the agioteurs and 
the agens de change roar, and scream, and gesticulate like ma- 
niacs. The Southern planters, and their Avives and daughters, 
escaping from the monotony of their cotton and sugar planta- 
tions, come down to New Orleans in the early spring season, 
and, as private lodgings are not to be had, they throng to the 
St. Louis and the St. Charles Hotels, but principally to the 
St. Charles, where they lead a life of constant publicity and 
gayety, and endeavor to make themselves amends for the se- 
I'lusion and weariness of winter. As many as a hundred la- 
dies (to say nothing of the gentlemen) sit down together to 



"the crescent city." 171 

breakfast — tlm majority of thciu in full dress as for au even- 
ing party, and arrayed in the full splendor both of their charms 
and of their jewelry. Dinner is but a repetition of the same 
brilliancy, only that the ladies are still more gorgeously and 
elaborately dressed, and make a still greater display of pearls 
and diamonds. After dinner the drawing-rooms ofier a scene 
to which no city in the world affords a parallel. It is the 
very court of Queen Mob, whose courtiers are some of the fair- 
est, wealthiest, and most beautiful of the daughters of the 
South, mingling in true Kepublican equality with the chance 
wayfarers, gentle or simple, Avell dressed or ill dressed, clean 
or dirty, who can pay for a nightly lodging or a day's board 
at this mighty caravansary. To rule such a hotel as this in 
all its departments, from the kitchen and the wine-cellar to the 
treasury and the reception-rooms, with all its multifarious ax'- 
ray of servants, black and white, bond and free, male and fe- 
male — to maintain order and regularity, enforce obedience, ex- 
trude or circumvent plunderers, interlopei'S, and cheats, and, 
above all, to keep a strict watch and guard over that terrible 
enemy who is always to be dreaded in America — Fire — is a 
task demanding no ordinary powers of administration and gov- 
ernment, but it is one that is well performed by the proprie- 
tors, Messrs. Hall and Ilildreth. Their monster establishment 
is a model of its kind, and one of the "sights" of America. 

So much for the in-door life of New Orleans. Its out-door 
life is seen to greatest advantage on the levee, where steam- 
boats unloading their rich freights of cotton, sugar, and mo- 
lasses from Mississippi, Arkansas, and Tennessee, and of pork, 
flour, corn, and Avhisky from the upper and inland regions of 
Missouri, Illinois, Ohio, and Kentucky, present a panorama 
that may be excelled in Europe for bustle and life, but not for 
picturesqueness. The river can scarcely be seen for the crowd 
of steam-boats and of shipping that stretch along the levee for 
miles ; and the levee itself is covered with bales of cotton and 
other produce, Avhich hundreds of negroes, singing at their 
work, with here and there an Irishman among them, are busily 
engaged in rolling from the steamers and depositing in the 
places set apart for each consignee. These places are distin- 



172 LIFE AJSTD LIBEETY IN AMERICA.. 

guished one from the other by the little flags stuck upon them 
— flags of all colors, and mixtures of colors, and patterns ; and 
here the goods remain in the open air, unprotected, until it 
pleases the consignees to remove them. New Orleans would 
seem, at the first glance, to overflow with wealth to such an 
extent as to have no room for storage. The street pavements 
actually do service for warehouses, and are cumbered with 
barrels of salt, corn, flour, pork, and molasses, and bales of cot- 
ton, to such an extent as to impede the trafiic, and justify the 
belief that the police must be either very numerous and effi- 
cient, or the population very honestly disposed. The docks 
of Liverpool are busy enough, but there is no life or animation 
at Liverpool at all equal to those which may be seen at the 
levee in the " Crescent City." The fine open space, the clear 
atmosphere, the joyousness and alacrity of the negroes, the 
countless throngs of people, the forests of funnels and masts, 
the plethora of cotton and corn, the roar of arriving and de- 
parting steam-boats, and the deeper and more constant roar 
of the multitude, aU combine to impress the imagination with 
visions of wealth, power, and dominion, and to make the levee 
as attractive to the philosopher as it must be to the merchant 
and man of business. 

One day, weary of the sights and sounds of trade, and 
anxious for fresh air, I crossed to Algiers on the opposite side 
of the Mississippi. Here, while admiring the orange groves, 
but regretting that the oranges were bitter, and overhearing 
the strange names given to the negroes by one another, and 
by the Creole masters and mistresses — such names as Hercule, 
Lysandre, Diane, Agamemnon, and Hector — I was much 
amused by the fervent ejaculations of a man who had evident- 
ly been drinking. Talking loudly to himself, but slowly and 
deliberately, he said, " Damn every thing ! damn every body ! 
Yes, but there's time enough to damn every thing, and it's not 
my business to go out of the way to do it. Besides, I have no 
authority to damn any thing, and, for that matter, to damn 
any body but myself, which I do most heartily. Damn me !" 
and he passed on, reeling. 

On the third day after our arrival. New Orleans was excited 



"the crescent city." 173 

beyond tlie limits of its ordinary propriety by the revelries of 
the " Mystick Krewe of Comus" — an association of citizens 
whose names are known only to the initiated, who annually 
celebrate the festival of Mardi Gras by a procession through 
the city. The procession on this occasion represented Comus 
leading the revels, followed by Momus, Janus, Pomona, Ver- 
tumnus, Flora, Ceres, Pan, Bacchus, Silenus, Diana, and, in 
fact, the whole Pafltheon of the Greek mythology, male and 
female, all dressed in appropriate costume. The " Krewe" 
assembled at nine o'clock in Lafayette Square, and, having ob- 
tained permission of the mayor to perambulate the city with 
torch-lights, started in procession through the principal streets 
to the Gayety Theatre, where the performers in the masque, 
to the number of upward of one hundred, represented four 
classical tableaux before a crowded audience. They protract- 
ed the festival till midnight ; but during that night and the 
preceding day no less than three assassinations by maskers 
were perpetrated in the open sti'eet. The circumstances, hor- 
rible to a stranger, appeared to excite no sensation among the 
natives. But New Orleans is in this respect on a par with 
Southern Italy. Human life is a cheap commodity, and the 
blow of anger but too commonly precedes or is simultaneous 
with a word ; and among the counterbalancing disadvantages 
of a too warm and too luxurious climate, this predisposition 
to the stiletto or the bowie-knife is not the least disagreeable 
or the least remarkable. 

The swamps of the great cotton-growing states of Louisi- 
ana, Mississippi, and Alabama are a sti-iking feature of the 
southern landscape. The traveler, whether he proceed by the 
steam-boats on the great rivers, or along the dreary lines of 
railway that pierce, often in a straight line, for hundreds of 
miles through the jungle and the wilderness, speedily becomes 
familiar with their melancholy beauty, though he seldom has 
occasion to penetrate far into their dangerous solitudes. No 
part of the rich state of Louisiana, and but few portions of 
the states of Mississippi, Arkansas, and Tennessee, are more 
than two hundred feet above the level of the Gulf of Mexico. 
The majestic rivers which give names to these states, and 



174 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

many others wliicli are tributary to these larger arteries, such 
as the Ked River, the Tomhigbee, and the Ohio, overflow their 
banks every year, and, breaking over the artificial levees that 
are raised to restrain them within their natural channels, 
lodge their waters in the low grounds and hollows of the for- 
ests. There being no fall by which they can return again to 
the parent or any other stream or outlet, the waters simmer 
in the hot sun, or fester in the thick, oppressive shadow of the 
trees, where nothing flourishes but the land-turtle, the alliga- 
tor, the rattlesnake, and the moccasin — the latter a small but 
very venomous reptile. An area of no less than 9000 square 
miles between the Mississippi and Red River is periodically 
submerged ; and the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers, in many 
parts of their course, are as treacherous and unruly as the 
Mississippi itself, and commit as much havoc on the low-lying 
districts within twenty or thirty miles of their banks. Be- 
tween the city of New Orleans and the Lake Pontchartrain, 
in a carriage-drive of six miles over the celebrated Shell Road 
(the best road in America, though not to be compared Avith 
Regent Street, Oxford Street, or the New Road), the traveler 
may see a miniature speciijien of the prevalent scenery of the 
American swamps. He may admire the luxuriant forest- 
growth, festooned with the graceful ribbons of the wild vine, 
the funereal streamers of the tillandsia, or Spanish moss, 
drooping from the branches of pine, cotton wood, cypress, and 
ever-green oaks — weird-like all, as witches weeping in the 
moonlight ; and underneath, amid the long, thick grass, the 
palm and palmetto spreading their fanlike leaves in beautiful 
profusion. At the roots of the trees, many of them charred 
and blackened by fire, sleeps the dull, calm water, sometimes 
in a smaller pool, dyed to a color like that of porter or coffee 
by the decayed vegetation of successive years, but in the larger 
pools, often four or five feet deep, lying clearer and more 
translucent than Avlien it left the turbid receptacle of the pa- 
rent Mississippi. But on the banks of the great river itself, 
between St. Louis and Natchez, may be seen in more perfec- 
tion the apparently interminable forests of cottonwood and 
cypress, whose deep recesses, far beyond the present reach of 



"the chescent city." 175 

cultivation, w the probable capabilities of existing negro labor, 
stretch the "dismal swamps" — worthy of the name — Avhere 
men seldom venture, even in pursuit of sport, which elsewhere 
makes them brave so many dangers. The atAnosphere in the 
summer months, when the vegetation is in its greatest beauty, 
is too deadly even for acclimated white men and for those in 
the South. None but negroes may brave the miasmata Avilh 
impunity. Their lungs seem of a texture coarse enough to 
imbibe the foul air without damage, and their coarse skins re- 
pel the noxious vapors that are fatal to the white race. 

It is to places like these, in the innermost recesses of the 
swamps, that the rebellious negi'o, determined upon freedom, 
flies in pursuit of the blessing, and Avhere he hides and skulks, 
armed to the teeth, until opportunity serves him to travel by 
what the Americans call the " underground railway" to Can- 
ada, where, and where only, he can be safe from the marshals 
and constables of the United States. 

And what, it may be asked, is the "underground railway"?" 
When and by whom the name was first applied it is dilficult, 
if not impossible, to state, but it simply means the system by 
which the friends of the negro and the supporters of the abo- 
lition of slavery pass a runaway slave from city to city through- 
out the length and breadth of the Union, until — perseverance 
and good-luck aiding — he is finally enabled to set his foot on 
British territory, and set at defiance the law and the author- 
ity which would again make him captive. In most, if not all 
American cities, there is some male or female philanthropist, 
some member of the Society of Friends, or some merely pliil- 
osophic friend of man, who, looking upon slavery as a crime 
and a curse, makes it a point of duty to assist the negro in 
escaping a bondage which he believes to be an individual no 
less than a national disgrace. All these persons are acquaint- 
ed with, and correspond with each othei-, though their exist- 
ence may be unknown to the authorities and principal persons 
of the cities in which they reside. By degrees they have or- 
ganized a system, in conformity to wliich they shelter and 
feed the runaway, and provide him with the means of passing 
from one city to another, until he is safely beyond the reach 



176 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

of all pursuit from the law officers of the central government, 
or from the officious interference of local functionaries or 
busybodies. Such is the underground railway. Canada is 
its usual terminus ; for there, and there alone, is safety. Un- 
fortunately, however, for the negroes, they do not find always 
either a welcome or the means of subsistence in their new 
home. Canada, besides, is somewhat too frosty for the negro 
blood ; and the fugitives not unfrequently leave it in despair, 
to return to captivity and punishment in the more genial 
Soutli, where, whatever may be their moral state, their phys- 
ical wants are better supplied, and with less cost and exertion 
to themselves than in the more wholesome and more invigor- 
ating North. 

But it is not every negro, who, in the heat of passion for 
real or imaginary wrong inflicted upon him by master or mis- 
tress, escapes from thraldom, that hopes, or even attempts, to 
reach Canada. The way is too long ; the dangers are too 
many ; and, moreover, it is not one negro in a thousand who 
knows where Canada is, and who, even when inspired by the 
love of freedom, would attempt such a journey. The nearest 
refuge of the negro of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama is 
the Swamp, and thither the runawnys betake themselves on 
the rare occasions Avhen they quarrel with their masters, or 
appeal to them in vain from the tjranny or maltreatment of 
their overseers. The overseers, it should be stated, are seldom 
Southern men, but mostly " Yankees" from the New England 
States, or indubitable Scotchmen, gaining their first footing in 
the world by a mode of life to which their poverty rather 
than their Calvinism or their education reconciles them. Once 
in the Swamp and well armed, the fugitive, if not pursued too 
rapidly by his master or the overseer Avith the blood-hounds 
on his track — by no means an uncommon occurrence — suc- 
ceeds, sooner or later, in joining a band of unfortunates like 
himself, and in penetrating into the jungle deeply enough to 
elude or defy pursuit. Bands of forty or fifty negroes, and 
sometimes in larger numbei's, have been known to haunt the 
remote swamps of Louisiana and Mississippi, and to make their 
retreats inviolate, partly by the aid of the pestilential climate, 
and partly by the terror inspired by their ferocity and des- 



"the crescent city." 177 

peration. They liavc even been knoAvn to clear portions of 
the wiklerness, and plant it with maize or Indian corn for 
their subsistence, and to levy, like the " merry men" of Kobiu 
Hood or Kob Roy, a very considerable black mail and tribute 
upon the pastures of the planters within tAvo or three days' 
reach of their fastnesses. When powder and shot fail them, 
they have recourse to the more primitive implement — the bow, 
and thus provide themselves with subsistence from the spoils 
of the forest. At night they light large fires with the super- 
abundant timber of tiieir hiding-places, not di-eading, so far 
from the white men, that their pursuers will dare to break in 
upon them in such dangerous places, or trusting, if they do, 
that their superior knowledge of the grovmd will enable them, 
if not to capture, at least to elude Avhatevcr force, public or 
private, may be sent against them. 

The day will come, if not within the lifetime of this gener- 
ation, yet in a short period compared with the history of civ- 
ilization, when all these swamps will be drained, and when all 
this jungle will be cut down to make room for the cultivation 
of cotton and sugar. But at present the cultivated land of 
the Southern States is but a margin and border on the great 
rivers. Beyond these narrow strips lies on cither side the 
great interior country, equally rich and fruitful. But the 
white population in these regions, unlike that in the north and 
west of the Union, and unlike that in Canada, grows by its 
own natural growth. It has no aid from immigration. The 
white race increases but slowly. The black races increase 
rapidly — so rapidly that, in default of that immigration from 
the Old World, and from the already over-populated states of 
New England, which is such a constant source of wealth, 
power, and dominion to Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Wiscon- 
sin, and Michigan, and which will be the same to Kansas, 
Nebraska, and scores of other states and territories not yet 
settled, the negroes will ere long outnumber the whites. What 
may result when this takes place, and when the fact is known to 
the negro population, it is not for any one now living to predict : 

"But forward though we canna look, 
We jruess and fear." 
112 



178 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

FROM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA. 

Montgomery, Alabama, March 2. 
Farewell to the pleasant and sunny city of New Orleans ! 
Farewell to its warm-hearted people of Creoles, both French 
and Anglo-Saxon ! Farewell to the St. Charles Hotel, that 
perfect epitome of Southei'n life when it escapes from its en- 
forced solitudes in the plantations of Louisiana, and mixes in 
the gayety of this "Petit Paris" of America ! Farewell to 
the busy, picturesque, swarming levee, with its negroes and 
its Irishmen, its cotton, its sugar, its pork, its corn, its whisky, 
and its huge white steam-boats, with their tall black funnels, 
two to each ! Farewell to its fruit-shops, luscious and burst- 
ing over with oranges and bananas, freshly gathered from the 
tree ! Farewell to the bowers of roses and jessamines on the 
banks of the Mississippi ! And farewell to that great Eiver 
Mississippi itself, fit for every thing except to drink and to 
wash in, winding, and twisting, and pouring to the sea its 
majestic tide for upward of two thousand miles, receiving into 
its bosom, from tributaries scarcely inferior to itself, the drain- 
age of an area sufficient to feed and lodge one half of the hu- 
man race ! And forewell, too, to the sweet South, where by 
a little manoeuvre and change of plan I had contrived to evade 
the frost and snow, and to make Spring follow immediately 
upon Autumn ! I was now bound for Mobile, in Alabama, 
and turned my face northward, traveling with the Spring. 
Hitherto New Orleans had been to my imagination a weird 
city, a city of the plague, a city that London life-assurance 
offices would not allow their clients to visit unless upon pay- 
ment of a premium for the extra risk ; but for the future it 
was to be associated in my mind with all pleasant fancies and 
ideas — of beautiful women, beautiful flowers, beautiful skies, 
and balmy breezes. 



FROM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA. 179 

From the St. Charles Hotel to the Lake Pontchartraln rail- 
way station is a distance of less than a mile. The hack fare 
demanded of each passenger on this occasion was one dollar. 
London cab-drivers, who are not allowed by the law or the 
police to extort as much as they please from the fear, the ig- 
norance, or the indolence of the public, might advantageously 
expatriate themselves to Louisiana, or, indeed, to any other 
state in the wide dominion of "Uncle Sam." Were the 
American hack-drivers all white men, it might not unreason- 
ably be supposed that they had immigi-ated from the European 
side of the Atlantic, to revenge themselves for deprivation of 
the liberty of cheating in the Old World by the exercise of an 
unbounded license of extortion in the New. But this theoiy 
does not hold in the South, where at least one half of the 
hack-drivers are negroes. Yet five hundred London cabmen, 
the very worst and most insolent that London could spare, 
might effect a social revolution in this department by coming 
over to America. If they demanded no more than four times 
the legal London fares they would get abundance of custom, 
for, even at these rates, they would be able to do the work at 
half the price of the American Jehus, native or imported. 
From the railway depot to Lake Pontchartraln is six miles, 
and the fare was a quarter of a dollar. From Lake Pont- 
chartraln, by the fine mail steamer the Cuha, the distance is 
1G5 miles, and the fare on this occasion was precisely the 
same as the hackney-coach fai-e, one dollar. The accommo- 
dation afforded included supper, a night's lodging, and break- 
fast in the morning. But let no future traveler imagine that 
such a rate is a permanent institution. There was on that 
day an opposition boat on the line ; and, to vanquish and 
overwhelm the opposition, it was contemplated, if the ruinous 
rate of one dollar would not effect the purpose, to I'educe it 
still farther to half a dollar. The consequences were, as might 
have been expected, that the boat was inconveniently over- 
crowded, and that there was a ferocious scramble at breakfast- 
time for seats at the table. It must be admitted, however, 
that the cuisine was as liberal as if the full price had been de- 
manded. For ray part, it was not without a compunctious 



180 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

throb and qualm of conscience that I Avas lending myself to a 
robbery, that 1 condescended to eat cither supper or break- 
fast. 

AVc left New Orleans at four in the afternoon, and steam- 
ed all night through the two sea lakes of Pontchartrain and 
Borgnc, and along the inner shore of the Gulf of Mexico — 
inner, because protected from the outer gulf by a breastwork 
of islands. At nine the next morning the Cuba was safe in 
the Mobile River, discharging her freight and passengers at 
the levee. The population of Mobile is about 25,000, free 
and slave, who all, either directly or indirectly, live and thrive 
by the cotton trade. Mobile and Liverpool are, in different 
ways, as closely connected by interest and business as Liver- 
pool and Manchester, and their transactions ai-e annually on 
the increase. The wharves and levee, like those of New Or- 
leans, are covered with cotton bales. The gutters, when it 
rains (and the rains of Mobile are floods), bear down waifs 
and strays of cotton to the river, and the river is studded and 
flecked with cotton-drift floating about on its surface like so 
many nautili. The thoughts of the merchants of Mobile are 
of cotton. They talk of cotton by day, and dream of it by 
night. When news arrive from Europe, they turn instinct- 
ively to the Liverpool cotton report. A rise or fall of a 
I'arthing per lb., or even of one eighth of a farthing, may 
make the difiei'ence between ease and embarrassment — be- 
tween riches and poverty — ^between a good speculation and a 
bad one. 

"Cotton is in their steps, cotton is in their ears ; 
In all their actions, enterprise and cotton." 

Next to the State of Mississippi, Alabama is the greatest 
cotton state of the Union, and produces from 500,000 to 
700,000 bales per annum, at an average value of from forty 
to fifty dollars (£8 to £10) per bale. 

Mobile was founded by the French in 1700, when they 
were the possessors of Louisiana ; but the name, though it re- 
sembles a French Avord and suggests a French origin, is said 
by the natives to be Indian. It was ceded to England in 
17G3, and, seventeen years afterwai'd, was made over to Spain. 



FROM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA. 181 

It bears but few traces cither of its French or its Spanish 
founders, and some of its most enterprising citizens ai'c En- 
glish and Scotch, attracted to it by its business connections 
with Liverpool and Glasgow. As a city Mobile offers few 
attractions to the traveler. It has no public buildings of any 
importance, and only one street (Government Street) which 
has any pretensions to beauty, and those are derivable more 
from its width, and the luxuriant tropical beauty of the trees 
which shade it on either side, than from its architecture. 
Should any of the surplus population of London cabmen, al- 
ready alluded to, bethink themselves of coming to the United 
States, they will do well to consider the advantages which Mo- 
bile offers to them. My traveling companion, for going to and 
coming from an evening party at a gentleman's house within 
a distance of a mile and a half from our hotel, had to pay 
one driver the sum of eight dollars (£1 12s.) ; and for escort- 
ing two ladies to the theatre " on a raw and rainy night," a 
distance of less than half a mile, he had to pay six dollars 
(£l 4s.) But those who do not keep carriages of their own 
in Mobile seldom or never ride. If it be fine, they walk ; if 
it be wet, they stay at home ; so that, after all, the hackney- 
coach business may not be so prosperous as might be sup- 
posed from such an unconscionable tariff. 

The great charm, beauty, and attraction of Mobile is its 
famous Magnolia Grove. The drive for about thi'ce miles is 
over an excellent plank road, through the bowery avenues of 
which are to be attained at every turn most picturesque 
glimpses over the Bay of Mobile, and far beyond it on the 
verge of the horizon, of the Gulf of Mexico, and the mysteri- 
ous springs and sources of that great Gulf Stream which 
works its tepid way across the Atlantic to make green the 
fields of Ireland and England, and to soften the climate of 
the Hebridean Isles of Skye and Lewis and the fiords of Nor- 
way. On entering the grove, the magnificent magnolias, tall 
and umbrageous as the chestnut-trees of Bushy Park, are 
seen growing to the very edge of the sea, interspersed with 
equally magnificent pines and evergreen oaks. The combina- 
tion of these stately trees presents the idea of perpetual sum- 



182 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

mer. ^.Thc magnolias were not in bloom so early (tlic 25tli 
of February), but the wood violets were out in rich though 
inodorous luxuriance; the jessamines were unfolding their 
yellow blossoms, redolent of perfume ; and the bay-spice dis- 
played on every side its gorgeous crimson flowers and glossy 
aromatic leaves. Amid all these and a variety of other trees, 
the wild vine, that had not yet put out its tender shoots, 
wreathed and twined itself, suggesting the fuller beauty that 
would burst upou the land Avhcn the mocking-bird would trill 
its delicious notes, the magnolia woo the "amorous air" with 
its profuse white pyramids of flowers till the breeze became 
faint with excess of odor, and the vine itself, with its full 
drapery of verdure upon it, should festoon together all the 
trees of this exuberant wildwood. 

Walking out by myself, and meriting neither then, nor at 
any other time, the anathema of Cowley, who says, 

" Unhappy man, and much accursed is he 
Who loves not his own company," 

a beautiful little spring by the wayside in the Magnolia Grove 
suggested to me, sitting on a fallen tree, and basking in the 
sunshine, the following lines : 

THE WAYSIDE SPRING IN ALABAMA. 

"Bonnie wayside buiMiie, 

Tinkling in thy well, 
Softly as tlie music 

Of a fairy bell ; 
To what shall I compare thee, 
For the love I bear thee, 

On this sunny day, 
Bonnie little burnic, 

Gushing by the way ? 

"Thou'rt like to fifty fair things, 
Thou'rt like to fifty rare things, 
Spring of gladness flowing 

Grass and ferns among, 
Singing all the noontime 

Thine incessant song ; 
Like a jdeasant reason, 
Like a word in season. 
Like a friendly greeting, 
Like a happy meeting, 



FROM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA. 183 

Like the voice of comfort 

In the hour of jjain, 
Or sweet sleep long vanished, 

Coming back again : 

"Like the heart's romances, 
Like a poet's fancies, 
Like a lover's visions 

Of his bliss to be ; 
Like a little- maiden 

Crowned with summers three. 
Romping in the sunshine ♦ 

Beautiful to see ; 
Like my true love's accents 

When alone we stray, 
Happy with each other, 

Tiirough the meads of May, 
Or sit down together, 
In the wintry weatlier, 

By tlie cheery fire, 
Gathering in tiiat circle 

All this world's desire, 
Hope, and love, and friendship, 

And music of the lyre. 

"Bonnie little burnie, 

Winding through the grass. 
Time shall never waste thee, 

Ot drain thy sparkling glass ; 
And were I not to taste thee, 

And bless thee as I pass, 
'Twould he a scorn of beauty, 
'Twould be a want of duty, 
'Twould be neglect of Pleasure — 
yo come, thou little treasure ! 

I'll kiss thee while I may. 
And while I sip tliy coolness. 

On this sunny day, 
I'll bless thy gracious Giver, 
Thou little baby river, 

Gushing by the way." 

AVe were detained at Mobile no longer than three days, and 
then, once more taking passage upon a steam-boat, we steam- 
ed up, and not down, a great American river. The Alabama 
is not so great as the Mississippi or the Ohio, but is still a 
great and a noble stream. It is formed by the junction of the 
Coosa and the Tallapoosa, and is navigable by large steam- 



184: LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

bouts from Mobile to AVetum})ka, a distance of about six 
hundred miles. About forty miles above Mobile it is joined 
by a river with the somewhat cacophonous name of the Tom- 
bigbee, and from the point of junction downAvard is sometimes 
called the Mobile River. The river runs for two or three 
hundred miles right through the middle of the State of Ala- 
bama, of which it is the broad, the silent, and the beautiful 
highway, and then slopes to the east toward Georgia. But 
this reminds me that I am speaking, not of nature, but of the 
map, and committing an error similar to that of a newly-ap- 
pointed postmaster of Mobile, who wrote to a clerk in his de- 
partment at the farther end of the State of Alabama asking 
him how far the Tombigbee ran up. The reply was that the 
Tombigbee did not run up, but down : a truth and a witticism 
which cost the sharp clerk his situation by the fiat of the of- 
fended functionaiy, who, if he had sense to see the joke, had 
not magnanimity enough to pardon it. 

Fi'om Mobile to Montgomeiy, by the windings of the 
stream, tracing it upward, is a distance of nearly five hundred 
miles, and the voyage usually occupies about forty-eight hours. 
Between these two points the only towns of importance are 
Sclma and Cahawba, towns which in England would be call- 
ed villages, but which in America are called cities. To steam 
up this lonely and lovely river, fringed to the water's brink 
with apparently interminable Avildernesses and swamps of cane 
and cypress — the cypresses heavy and gloomy with the ban- 
ner-like beards of the tillandsia — was like steaming into the 
aboriginal forest for the first time. So still and ch-eam-like 
was the landscape, so bright a moon shone on the fairy soli- 
tude of wood and flood, that it seemed as if we had passed 
the uttermost confines of civilization, and were tempting the 
unknown waters of an unknown land, where the savage still 
prowled, where the war-cry still resounded, and where the up- 
lifted tomahawk might still glitter in the moonlight over the 
scalp of the too adventurous white man rushing recklessly 
into danger. For forty miles at a stretch we traveled omvard 
— ever onward — without seeing any trace of a human habita- 
tion, though occasionally we stopped at a lonely corner where 



FKOM LOUISIANA TO ALABAMA. 185 

negroes, bearing torches, sncldcnly appcai-ed, to receive a bar- 
rel of corn, or pork, or other commodity with which we were 
freighted. There were cotton plantations within easy dis- 
tances, though not always visible from the river. In the 
downward voyage of the steamers the ownei's of these planta- 
tions load them with cotton for Mobile, but in the upward 
voyage to Montgomery the freight is usually of such articles 
as the planters require for themselves and their slaves. Ala- 
bama finds cotton production more profitable than any other. 
It grows but little corn, raises but little pork, and carries on 
no manufactures. There is, in consequence, a continual ex- 
change of cotton for every other commodity and thing which 
the free man's luxuries and his slaves' necessities require. 

Alabama is not yet totally free of tlie Indian tribes, and 
portions of them come annually down to Mobile to sell their 
fancy bead-work, and the little ornaments of bark which the 
women make in the winter. The women, young and old, arc 
often to be seen in Mobile with bundles of fire-wood on their 
backs, which they sell in the streets, cr}'ing with a melancholy 
intonation, " Chumpa ! chumpa!" the only word resembling 
English which they speak, and somewhat more musical than 
"chumps," which it signifies. The Alabama River was the 
scene of many romantic and many horrible incidents of the 
early warfare between the white and red races, and many 
stories are told of the encounters of the hardy pioneers of civ- 
ilization with the equally hardy but more luckless aborigines 
who resisted their invasion, and of which the Alabama, its 
swamps and bluffs, was the scene even so lately as the year 
1830. Among the Indian heroes, one, "General" Mackin- 
tosh, the son of a Scotchman by an Indian mother, stands 
conspicuous for his chivalry and bravery, and for the influence 
which he exercised over all the Indian tribes of Alabama. 
The river is almost as intimately associated with his name as 
Loch Lomond is with that of Kob Roy, or the caves of the 
Island of Skyc with the memory of Prince Charlie. 

Montgomery is the capital of the State of Alabama, and 
carries on a considei'ablc business in the forwarding of cotton 
and other produce to Mobile. Its population is under 10,000. 



186 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

It offers nothing to detain the traveler, and has nothing re- 
markable about it except the badness of its principal hotel. 
Among the numerous eccentricities of this establishment may 
be mentioned the fact that it contains no bells in its rooms. 
By this economy the traveler is compelled, if he want any 
thing, to go to the top of tlie stairs and use his lungs, or, if 
that be disagreeable or unavailing, to help himself, Avhich is, 
perhaps, liis most advisable mode of getting out of the diffi- 
culty. Another peculiarity of this remarkable hostelry is (or 
was) that nothing is (or was) to be had on a Sunday evening 
after six o'clock. Having dined by compulsion of the custom 
of the place at one o'clock, I sought out a negro waiter about 
nine o'clock, and asked for some refreshment. There was 
nothing to be had — no tea, no milk, no meat, not even a crust 
of bread. " Is the bar open ?" I inquired, with a faint hope 
that that department might prove more hospitable, and afford 
a hungry traveler a " cracker" (the American name for a bis- 
cuit, and for a Southern rustic) and a glass of beer or wine. 
The hope was vain ; the bar-keeper had shut up at six o'clock. 
It was a case of starvation in a land of plenty ; and, to make 
the matter more provoking, it was starvation charged in the 
bill at the rate of two dollars and a half per diem. I made a 
friend of the negro, however, and he borrowed a crust of bread 
for me out of doors somewhere, and managed to procure me a 
lump or two of sugar ; a worthy Scotchman at Mobile had, 
when I left that city, filled me a pocket-flask with genuine 
Islay whisky from the " Old Countiy ;" and, with these abund- 
ant resources, and a tea-kettle, I was enabled to be independ- 
ent of the landlord of the bell-less, comfortless, foodless hotel 
of Montgomery, Alabama. 



SOUTU OAKOLINA. 187 



CHAPTER XXII. 

SOUTH CAROLINA. 

Charleston, South Carolina, March 5, 1858. 

Two days after our pleasant voyage up the Alabama Kiver 
the weather suddenly changed. A " northei*" (a wind as much 
dreaded in the sunny South of this continent as is the kindred 
" bora" by the inhabitants of the sloping hills of tlie Adriatic 
from Trieste to Zara) swept over the states of Alabama and 
Georgia, and in less than two hours the thermometer fell forty 
degrees. In the morning it was a luxury to breathe the balmy 
airs from the Gulf of Mexico, redolent of fresh flowers and all 
the wealth of early spring ; in the afternoon the weather was 
raw and bleak, and suggested Siberia or Greenland. The un- 
happy wayfarer, unaccustomed to the clime, was fain to betake 
himself to his thickest robes, or to sit in stifling proximity tq 
that greatest of all abominations, an American stove, glowing 
at a red heat with anthracite coal. Nor was it strangers alone 
who suffered. The natives are no more inured to these abrupt 
changes of temperature than travelers are. The men think it 
unsafe to leave oft' their overcoats in February days that seem 
to an Englishman as hot as the days of mid-June ; and the 
ladies — more susceptible of cold than any ladies I ever met 
with in the Old World — will not venture their fair noses or 
their fair finger-tips beyond the warm privacy of their boudoirs 
or bed-rooms when there blows a breeze from the east or north. 

While steaming up the Alabama, and for twenty miles run- 
ning a race with another boat, which, greatly to my satisfoc- 
tion, parted company with us at the junction with the Tombig- 
bee, I could not help reflecting on the numerous fires, wrecks, 
and explosions for Avhich the rivers of the South are notorious. 
I inquired whether it was the recklessness of the captains, or 
whether it was that of the" passengers, who but too often in- 
cite captains to race with rival boats, jwur passer le temps and 



188 LIFE AND LIBERTY IK AMERICA. 

to beguile the monotony of the voyage, that produced such ac- 
cidents. Then I debated whether there could be any stimu- 
lating influence in a Southern atmosphere which acted upon 
the human brain and organization so as to make men more 
thoughtless and impulsive than they are in the steadier and 
soberer North ; or whether it was a want of care in the man- 
ufacture or the management of the machinery ; or whether all 
these causes might not combine more or less to render life 
more insecure in the Southern railways and rivers than it is 
in other parts of the world ? Altogether I was so gloomily 
impressed with the idea of impending calamity, that I looked 
cai'efully and anxiously around to weigh the chances of escape 
if our boat should be the victim either of misfortune or mis- 
management. The prospect was not particularly pleasant. 
The river had overflowed its banks, and the trees on each side, 
as far as the eye could pierce through the intricacies of the 
primeval forest, stood three or four feet deep in the stream. 
There was nothing to be seen but a waste of water and a tan- 
gled forest-growth — the haunt of alligators and rattlesnakes. 
There was this comfort, however — it was too early in the year 
cither for alligators or rattlesnakes, both of which hibernate 
in these regions until the beginning of May. I ultimately came 
to the conclusion that, if the St. Charles (such was the name 
of our boat) took fire or burst her boiler, the most reasonable 
and promising chance of safety would be to seize a life-belt, to 
plunge into the water and make for the jungle, where, perched 
on the branch of a tree, I might await with all the fortitude 
at my command the mode and the hour of deliverance. On 
retiring to rest for the night, having made sure of a life-belt 
(and one is placed in every berth to be ready for the worst), I 
speedily forgot my forebodings in the blessed sleep " which slid 
into my soul." Next afternoon, safely landed at the pretty but 
inhospitable city of Montgomery (only inhospitable as far as 
its principal inn is concerned), I exchanged the perils of the 
river for the perils of the rail. Let me not be considered an 
cxaggerator or an alarmist. All traveling is in tlie South 
more perilous than it is any where else. The " reason why" 
is diflicult to tell on any other supposition than that the cli- 



SOUTH CAROLINA. 189 

mate is too relaxing to tlie body and too stimulating to the 
brain of the Anglo-Saxon races, and that they become reckless 
and careless in consequence. But I must leave this point for 
the consideration of physiologists, assuring them that, like the 
shake of Lord Burleigh's head in the play, " there may be 
something in it," and proceed with my story. 

After leaving Montgomery, and traveling all night through 
the long, weary, and apparently illimitable pine forests of 
Georgia, in the upper branches of which the night wind made 
a perpetual moaning, our train arrived at nine in the morning 
in the beautiful little city of Augusta. Plere an hour was al- 
lowed us for breakfast, and hither the electric telegraph con- 
veyed to us from the Tombigbee and Alabama Eivers, the an- 
nouncement of one of the most heart-rending steam-boat calam- 
ities that had ever occurred, even in Southern waters. The 
newspapers put into our hands at breakfast narrated the cir- 
cumstances in the curtest, cbyest, and baldest manner, but I 
learned the details afterward from a variety of sources. These 
details, doubtless, made a stronger impression on my mind than 
they might otherwise have done, from the strange presenti- 
ment of evil which I had experienced on the river, and from 
the similarity of some of the circumstances that actually oc- 
curred to those which my fancy had conjured up on the lovely 
moonlight evening when our vessel had pierced the silent wil- 
derness of " the beautiful river." 

Before leaving the " Battle Plouse" at Mobile I noticed a 
large steamer at the levee called the Eliza Battle, and won- 
dered whether she were so named after one of the Battle 
family, from whom the Battle House, or Hotel, had taken its 
appellation. This elegant steamer, a floating palace, as most 
of these river boats are, was suddenly discovered to be on fire 
in her voyage from Mobile up the Tombigbee. She had a 
large freight of dry goods, provisions, and groceries, which she 
was taking up to the plantations in part payment of the cot- 
ton bales which she had brought down, and upward of fifty 
passengers, of whom about twenty were women and children. 

How the fire originated is not known ; but, as already nar- 
rated, the night was intensely cold, and water spilled upon the 



190 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

deck froze almost iniuiediiitely. Large icicles hung on tlie in- 
side, and oozed througli the wood-work of the paddle-boxes ; 
and even the negro stokers, who fed the furnaces with wood, 
were cold at their work. The machinery, furnaces, and boil- 
ers of these boats are on the lower deck, open to all the winds 
of heaven, and are not inclosed like the machinery of English 
boats, so that, even in feeding the furnaces with logs of greasy 
pine and looking at a roaring fire> the workmen may feel cold. 
Whether the negroes piled on the wood too fiercely and over- 
heated the funnel, or whether sparks from the chimney fell on 
some of the more combustible freight upon the lower deck, is 
not, and possibly never will be known ; but at one hour after 
midnight the fearful cry of " Fire !" was raised in the Eliza 
Battle. The flanies made rapid progress, and all efforts to ex- 
tinguish or subdue them were unavailing. Amid the shrieks 
and frantic prayers of agonized women — some moved out of 
their beds at a moment's notice, and rushing on to the deck in 
their night-clotlics, some of them grasping their terrified little 
children by the hand, or clasping them to their bosoms, ready 
to plunge into the river as the less fearful of the two forms 
of death which menaced them — the voice of the captain was 
heard giving orders, and urging all the passengers to keep to 
the ship. In one minute he promised to run her ashore 
among the trees. Husbands consoled their wives with the 
hope of safety ; and all the passengers, male or female, tacitly 
or openly agreed that the captain was right, and that their 
only chance of safety lay in obedience to his orders. 

The captain was at his post. The wheel obeyed his hand, 
and in less than a minute the ship Avas aground on the river- 
bank, her upper deck high amid the branches of the oaks, 
Cottonwood, and cypress. How it was managed my inform- 
ants could not tell, but in a few minutes between forty and 
fifty human creatures — white and black, free and slave, male 
and female, young and old — were perched upon the strongest 
boughs to the leeward of the flames, a motley and a miserable 
company. Soon after, the burning vessel drifted dowii the 
stream with the bodies of many of the passengers and of the 
negro crcAv ; how many, none at that time coiUd tell, nor have 
I ever been able to ascertain. 



SOUTH CAROLIlSrA. 191 

Then a new horror became visible and palpable, and grew 
more horrible every hour. In this desolate situation, the ten- 
der women and children, without clothes to shelter them, were 
exposed to the pitiless breath of a " norther," the coldest wind 
that blows. Some of them were so weak that strong-handed 
and kind-hearted men stripped themselves of their under gar- 
ments to cover their frailer fellow-sufferers, or tied women and 
children — by stockings, cravats, pocket-handkerchiefs, and 
other contrivances — to the branches, lest their limbs, benumb- 
ed by the cold, should be unable to perform their offices, and 
they should drop, like lumps of inanimate matter, from the 
trees into the dismal swamp below. Hour after hour, until 
daylight, they remained in this helpless condition, anxiously 
looking for assistance. They listened to every sound on the 
water with the faint hope that it might prove to proceed from 
the paddles of a steam-boat coming to their deliverance, or 
the plashing oar of a row-boat from some neighboring planta- 
tion, whose owner had heard of their calamity and was hast- 
ening to the rescue. Even the cry of a water-bird gave them 
courage, lest the bird perchance might have been startled by 
an approaching boat ; but no boat appeared. There was no 
help within call. The cold stars shone alone upon their mis- 
cry. The night wind rustled and shook the dead leaves of 
last year upon the trees, and the ripple of the river, flowing as 
calmly to the sea as if human hearts were not breaking, and 
precious human lives ebbing away upon its dreary banks, 
Avere the only sounds audible except their own prayers and 
lamentations, and the wailing cry of a young child dying in 
its mother's arms. After a couple of hours, one little baby, 
frozen to death, dropped from the hands of its young mother, 
too benumbed to hold it, and, falling into the swamp below, 
was lost from sight. After another short interval, the mother 
also fell from the tree into the swamp alongside of her child. 
A husband, who had tied himself to a tree and held his wife 
and child close to his bosom, discovered that both wife and 
child were dead with cold, and kept kissing their lifeless forms 
for hours, until he, too, felt liis hands powerless to hold them, 
and they dropped from his nerveless grasp into the same cold 



192 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

receptacle. And when morning at last dawned upon their 
suftcrings, it was found by the sad survivors, on counting their 
numbers, tliat twenty-eight were missing, and had only es- 
caped the foai'ful but quick death of lire to perish by the still 
more fearful, because more lingering, death of cold. Surely 
in all the annals of shipAvi-eck there has seldom occurred a 
more affecting incident than this ! 

With this story in full possession of all my sympathies, I 
saw but little of the lauilscape between Augusta and Charles- 
ton — nothing but a wilderness of pine-trees — amid Avhich, 
every time the engine stopped to take in water, I could hear 
the low wind moaning and sighing. Pine-trees — nothing but 
pino-trccs — such is the landscape of Georgia and the Caro- 
liuas. 



CIIAPTEK XXIII. 

SOUTH CAKOLINA. 



Charleston, IMarch, 1858. 
There is a class of very small critics in America who arc 
continually on the look-out for the errors, great or small, that 
may be made by English travelers in their description of 
American scenery, manners, or institutions. There is another 
class of persons who make it their pleasure to mystify, bam- 
boozle, and hoax strangers, and who palm oil' upon them, Avith 
grave faces, lies of every magnitude, great and petty, mis- 
chievous and harmless. There is another class, composed to 
some extent of persons belonging to the snarlers and inauvais 
farceurs already mentioned, but including many honest and 
estimable people, who think that no person from the Old 
World can understand the New, and that America is, and 
must be, a mysteiy to all but Americans. Some of my let- 
ters published in England from time to time have more or 
less excited the attention of those persons. The first — in spy- 
ing out and commenting upon small mistakes, in which the 
obvious errors of the printer were set doAATi to the writer — 
attempted to pi'ovc that the leaven of one unimportant mis- 



SOUTH CAROLINA. 193 

stutcniont leavened the whole lump. The second tried their 
best iintl worst, but were guuidoil against, and, to nsc their 
own jargon, they did not "" sell the Urilisher." For the bene- 
iit of the third and oi* the lirst class of objectors, and to show 
them what a dilhcult animal to catch is a fact, and what a 
slippery tail it has, even when you think you have got sale 
hold of it, a little story relative to IJosfon, in Massaehusctts, 
may not be inapproprititc or useless, inasnuich as it may con- 
vince some of them that the most conscientious juid painstak- 
ing of travelers may involuntarily fall into mistakes, and that, 
in some instances at least, these mistakes may be traced to the 
incapacity or carelessness of those Avho answer tpiestions, and 
not to the incapacity or carelessness of those who put them. 
Being in the oillcc of a gentleman who had resided thirty years 
in the city of Boston, he informed mc that in the street next 
to his own Benjamin Franklin was born. 

"Does the house exist?" 

"No, it was pulled down some years ago, and a largo store 
or pile of buildings was erected on the site." 

" Is there no inscription to state that here was born Ben- 
jamin Franklin T' 

" None whatever." 

'" I am surprised at that. The birthplace of a man of whom 
Boston and all America is so justly proud — one of the great 
fathers of American liberty — of a man who, next to Washing- 
ton, is the American best known throughout tlie world, ought 
to have been designated by some inscription or memorial." 

"Well, I agree with you that there ought to have been 
something of the kind, but there is not." 

Ten minutes afterward I passed through the street of 
Franklin's birthplace, looked from the opposite side of the 
way to the large building erected on the site of the humble 
cottage where the great man first saw the light, and there, on 
the top of the building, in large letters, " that those Avho run 
might read," Avas the inscription which the old inhabitant ig- 
nored, or was unaware of, stating the fact that in that place 
was born Benjamin Franklin. A traveler might well have 
been excused for taking the not very important fact, or no 

I 



194 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

fixct, on such rcppectable authority as that from whom I re- 
ceived it, but yet the traveler woukl have been wrong, and 
might have been yelped at for his inaccuracy by all the angry 
curs of half a dozen little Pedlingtons. 

But this has nothing to do with Charleston in South Caro- 
lina except as far as it may serve to bespeak the charitable 
indulgence both of those who do and of those who do not 
know how diflicult it is to catch fost hold of a fact, large or 
small, and Avhat amount of the errors of a traveler may be 
fairly attributed to those with whom the traveler may be 
brought into contact, and who lead him astray without in- 
tending to do so. 

Charleston, the greatest city of South Cai'olina, but not its 
capital, is pleasantly situated between the Rivers Ashley and 
Cooper, at their junction with the sea. These names were 
given to the two streams by an early English governor of 
South Carolina, Avho sought in this manner to perpetuate his 
own patronymics in the New World ; but there is a disposi- 
tion at present to revert to the original Indian api^ellations, 
and to call the Cooper the Ettiwan, and the Ashley the Chi- 
cora. The population of Charleston is variously estimated 
from 50,000 to 00,000, of whom at least 20,000 are slaves. 
The city, founded in 1G70, was laid out on a plan sent from 
England, and does not present the monotonous rectanguhu'ity 
of streets Avhich characterizes American cities of a later 
growth. The original Constitution of South Carolina was 
framed by no less a person than the philosopher John Locke ; 
and the principal church of Charleston, that of St. Michael, is 
affirmed by the citizens and by tradition to have been built 
from the designs of an architect no less renowned than Sir 
Christopher Wren. King Street and Queen Street were 
named after Charles II. and his consort, names which have 
been retained by the Charlestonians in spite of attempts made 
to change them during periods of war with England. Thus 
Charleston has reminiscences of the " Old Country," and is 
proud of them, llie society of South Carolina and of Charles- 
ton is polished and aristocratic, and the principal citizens love 
to trace their descent from Englishmen, or from old Huguenot 



SOUTH CAROLINA. 195 

families driven to America by the Revocation of the Edict of 
Nantes. Charleston covers a large space of gronnd. To look 
at it from the top of the tower of St. Michael, or to steam into 
it either from the ocean or from the arms of the sea, which 
percolate through the Sea Islands extending along the coast 
from Savannah, the traveler might imagine it to contain a pop- 
ulation of at least a cpiarter of a million. The great attrac- 
tion of Charlest^jn is the Battery, at the extreme point of land 
Avherc the Ashley and the Cooper (or the Ettiwan and the 
Chicora) mingle their waters. Upon the Battery, which is 
laid out in walks and drives, are situated some of the tinest 
mansions of the city ; and here, in all seasons, the inhabitants 
congregate in the afternoon and evening to walk or ride, and 
inhale the fresh breezes of the Atlantic. It is their Hyde 
Park, their Prater, and their Champs Elyse'es, and they arc 
justly proud of it. 

South Carolina is called the " Palmetto State," from the 
abundance of palmettos that flourish in the Sea Islands along 
the coast — the Sea Islands that produce the cotton so much 
in request in England for the manufacture of the iiner descrip- 
tions of muslins and cambrics. In East Bay Street, nearly 
opposite the olfice of the Cliarleston Courier^ stands, carefully 
guarded by a fence, a magnificent palmetto in full luxuriance 
of growth, and in the gardens of the citizens the same tree 
flourishes in almost tropical beauty. The piers of the wharves 
at Charleston are made of palmetto wood — for the worm that 
consumes all other available timber spares the pahnetto. The 
whai'ves of Charleston, though not so busy and bustling as the 
levee of New Orleans, present an animated spectai-le, and the 
port is filled with vessels, principally from Liverpool and Green- 
ock, taking away cotton in huge and multitudinous bales for 
the mills of IManchester and Glasgow, and bringing in exchange 
for the white freight which they carry home the black freight 
of the English and Scottish collieries. Coal for cotton or rice 
is the ultimate barter into which the commerce of Charleston 
often resolves itself, to the mutual advantage of all concerned. 

Charleston had at one time a bad name for its inhospitable 
treatment of colored seamen who came from Great Britain, 



196 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

France, or the free states of America into the port. It -^-as 
the rule, rigidly enforced, that snch seamen, whether British 
subjects or not, should, as soon as the vessel arrived in the 
harbor, be conveyed ashore and locked up in prison until such 
time as the captain should notify to the authorities that he 
was ready to depart, when his men Avere restored to him under 
strons; escort, and safely deposited on board without having 
been permitted to exchange a word with any inhabitant of 
Charleston, black or white. This law led, as a natural con- 
sequence, to frequent misunderstandings, and often to recla- 
mation, on the part of the British authorities. The rigor of 
the rule has lately been somewhat relaxed, chiefly, if not en- 
tirely, through the exertions of ^Ir. Bunch, the present Brit- 
ish consul for North and South Carolina. Thanks to his ex- 
ertions, the colored seaman, instead of being treated as a felon, 
is allowed to remain on board of his ship in the harbor pro- 
vided he or his captain can procure bail or security that he 
will not attempt to go on shore. If a free colored seaman pre- 
sume, in detiance of this luw, to walk in the streets of Charles- 
ton, his bail is forfeited, and he is marched oti' to prison as a 
felon. It Avill be seen, although the sj-^tem is an improvement 
on that which previously existed, that the people of Charles- 
ton are still too much alarmed at the idea of the consequences 
Avhich might result from the admixture, even for a short pe- 
riod, of free negroes among their slaves, and from the inter- 
change of ideas between them, to do justice either to them- 
selves, to their port, to free black men, or to the maritime na- 
tions of Europe with whom they trade. But slavery is a sore 
subject in South Carolina and in Charleston, though not, per- 
haps, more so than it is in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, Ten- 
nessee, Arkansas, and Georgia. Every night at nine o'clock 
the bells of St. IMichaers ring as a signal to the negroes to re- 
turn to their homes. A quarter of an hour is given them to 
wend their way to the abodes of their masters ; and any negro, 
male or female, young or old, who is found in the streets after 
that hour without a written permit or warrant from his o-mi- 
er, is liable to be led otf to prison and locked up until the 
niorning. 



SOUTH CAROLINA. 197 

And, ■Nvlulo iijion iho subject of plavcrv, I may bo pornuttcd 
to mention the univei>al anxiety ■svliieh prevails at the Soutli 
that strangers, and especially Englishmen, should see the so- 
cial operation of the system at the plixntations and elsewhere, 
and judge for themselves as to the condition of the negroes. 
The slave-owners, "who, as far as my observation has extend- 
ed, appear to be very in-bane, polished, gentlemanly, and es- 
timable persons, imagine, from the exaggerations ■which have 
been circulated respecting negro slavery, that Englishmen who 
have never been in America arc predisposed to look upon 
them as monsters of ferocity and oppression ; as tyrants who 
maim and scourge, harass and persecute the black race, and 
as positive ogres of lust and cruelty. AVhcu they prove, as 
they may easily do, that they treat their slaves with kind- 
ness, and that, as a rule, slaves are better clad, fed, and cared 
for than the agricultin-al laborers of Europe or the slop tai- 
lors and seamstresses of London and Liverpool, they imagine 
that they cover the whole ground of objection to slavery. 

The Avriters in the slave interest love to di-aw a contrast 
between the '' hireling" of Europe and the " slave" of Amer- 
ica, in which they give all the advantage to the latter. They 
dilate upon the certainty of subsistence in return for his labor 
which the slave enjoys, and upon the uncertainty that attends 
upon the life and the struggles of the fi-ee man, or, as they 
contemptuously call him, the '' hireling." They assert that 
the free man is only of value while he can work ; that if he 
is sick and unable to labor he must starve, unless for public 
or private charity; but that the slave is subject to no such 
hazards ; that his subsistence is secured from the cradle to 
the grave, and that he is ha]iplcr than the free man, from the 
absence of all care for the morrow. They ret'use to argue the 
question upon higher ground than that of the mere animal 
well-being of the human cattle whom they buy and sell, and 
breed for proiit. They seem to be satisfied if they can con- 
vince the stranger from a far country that they treat their 
poor dependents and innnortal chattels with conuuon hu- 
manity. 

A few of them go still farther, and justifv slavery not only 



198 LIFE AND LIBEKTY IN AMERICA. 

by cxpecllency and necessity, but by social and economic con- 
siderations — by philosophy and etlmology, and even by relig- 
ion. They support it by the Old Testament and by the 
New, by the Pentateuch and by the Book of Kevelations, by 
Moses and by St. John the Evangelist. Some of them go so 
far as to assert that it is impious to attempt to abolish slavery, 
inasmuch as at the end of the world — at the opening of the 
Sixth Seal (Kevelations, chap, vi., v. 15) — there will be slav- 
ery in the world, because it is written that " every bondman' 
and every free man" will at that day hide himself in the dens 
and rocks of the mountains from the wrath of God. They 
suppoi't it by their attachment to the doctrines of Christianity, 
and allege that in their opinion slavery would be a good thing 
in itself, if for no other reason than that it made the benight- 
ed African conversant Avith the great truths of the Gospel, 
which he could not otherwise have known, and that it raised 
him from the condition of paganism in his own land to that 
of Christianism in another. 

At Charleston a book -wras put into my hand setting forth 
in glowing language the happy condition of the slave in Amer- 
ica and the unhappy condition of the free working man in 
England, France, and Germany. One of the chief arguments 
of the author was employed to demolish the logic of a writer 
in the Westminster Hen'eiv, who had cited among other objec- 
tions to slavery that it demoralized the slave-owner far more 
than it did the slave, and that slavery was to be condemned 
for the very same reasons that induced the British Legislature 
to pass a law against cruelty to animals — cruelty which was 
not only objectionable, and worthy of punishment because it 
inilicted wrong vipon the inferior creation, but because it bru- 
talized and degraded the human beings who were guilty of it. 
" Very true," said the pro-slavery writer in a tone of triumph, 
" very true ; but did the British Legislature, in its zeal in this 
cause, ever go so far as to decree the manumission of horses V 
And, as if this argument were a triumphant answer to all ob- 
jections, he left the Westminster reviewer, without deigning 
to take flirther notice of him, crushed under the weight of 
such tremendous logic ! 



A RICE PLANTATION". 199 

The slave-owners, as a body, arc not cruel, and many of 
them treat their slaves with paternal and patriarchal kind- 
ness ; but they are blinded by education and habits, as Avell 
as supposed self-interest, to the real evils of a system the hor- 
rors of which they do their best to alleviate. In my next let- 
ter, without entering into any argument pro or con, I shall de- 
scribe my visit to a very large rice plantation near this city, 
where upward of two hundred slaves arc employed, and whci-e 
the system is in full operation. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

A lilCE rLANTATION. 



Charleston, South Carolina, March, IS5S. 
In visiting a rice plantation, my object was not so much to 
satisfy myself that the slave-owners of America are kind to 
their negroes, as to satisfy the public opinion of Charleston 
that English travelers ai*e not prejudiced against Southern 
proprietors, and that they are willing to be convinced, by oc- 
ular demonstration, that humanity and gcncrosit}'^ toward the 
negro race may exist in the bosoms and sway the actions of 
men who hold property in their fellows. So much exaggera- 
tion has entered into the descriptions of negro life in the 
South, which have been given to the world by writers who 
have earned for themselves the title of "malignant philan- 
thropists," that tiie slave-owners actually think they have 
sutliciently vindicated slavery when they have proved, as they 
easily can, that they do not scourge, disfigure, maim, starve, 
or kill their negroes, but that, on the contrary, they feed 
them Avell, clothe them Avell, provide them with good medical 
attendance for the ills of the flesh, and spiritual consolation 
for the doubts and distresses of the soul. They will not stand 
on higher ground. But far different is the case with those 
educated in the different moral atmosphere of Europe. On 
my first arrival at New Orleans I lingered for a few moments 
at the open door of a slave depot, without daring to go in, 
lest I should be suspected of espionage or of idle curiosity, 



200 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

and expelled. But seeing among the company an eminent 
merchant of New York, whose friendship I had been fortunate 
enough to make, and whom I knew to be no slave-dealer or 
supporter of slavery, I walked in and joined his party, drawn 
thither, like myself, by curiosity. On one side of the room 
the male slaves, with clean linen, and shining new hats and 
boots, were arranged, and on the other the females were dis- 
posed in their best attire, most of them exceedingly neat, but 
some bedizened with ribbons of colors more flaring and taw- 
dry than elegant or appropriate. I was immediately beset 
with entreaties to purchase. 

" Achetez-moi," said a young negress in French; "je suis 
bonne cuisiniere, et couturiere. Achetez-moi !" 

" Buy me," said another, in the same language ; "I am 
accustomed to children, and can make myself useful in the 
nursery." 

I felt a sensation something similar to that of the first qualm 
of sea-sickness to be so addressed by my fellow creatures — a 
feeling of nausea, as if I were about to be ill. I told the poor 
women that I was a stranger who had not come to buy. But 
they were incredulous ; and, when at last convinced, they re- 
turned to their seats with a sigh and an expression of deep 
disappointment on their dark and good-humored features. I 
entertained at that moment such a hatred of slavery that, had 
it been in my power to abolish it in one instant off the face 
of the earth by the mere expression of my will, slavery at that 
instant would have ceased to exist. 

I then walked to the male side of the slave mart, where I 
was beset by similar entreaties, urged in every variety of tone 
and manner, and by almost every variety of laboi-er and handi- 
craftsman. Some were accustomed to the cotton, and some 
to the sugar plantation ; some were carpenters, some garden- 
ers, some coachmen, some barbers, some waiters ; but all were 
equally anxious to be sold. One man — ^who, to my inexperi- 
enced eyes, seemed as white as myself, and whom I at once 
put down in my own mind as an Irishman, of the purest 
quality of the county of Cork — got up from his seat as I 
passed, and asked me to buy him; "I am a good gardener. 



A EICE PLANTATION. 201 

your honor," said he, with an unmistakable brogue. "I am 
also a bit of a carpenter, and can look after the horses, and do 
any sort of odd job about the house." 

" But you are joking," said I ; " you are an Irishman f 

" My father was an Irishman," he said. 

At this moment the slave-dealer and owner of the depot 
came up. 

"Is there not a mistake here?" I inquired. "This is a 
white man." 

" His mother was a nigger," he replied. " "VVe have some- 
times much whiter men for sale than he is. Look at his hair 
and lips. There is no mistake about him." 

Again the sickness came over me, and I longed to get into 
the open air to breathe the purer atmosphere. 

" I would like to buy that man and set him free," I said to 
my friend from New York. 

" You would do him no good," was the reply. " A manu- 
mitted slave has seldom any self-reliance or energy. Slavery 
so degrades and cripples the moral faculties of the negroes 
that they require the crutch, even in freedom, and can not 
walk alone. They find it impossible to compete with the free 
whites, and, if left to themselves, sink into the lowest and most 
miserably-paid occupations." 

" You are an Englishman and a traveler," said the slave- 
dealer, " and I should be much obliged to you if you would 
put any questions to the negroes." 

"What questions'?" said I. " Shall. I ask them whether 
they would prefer freedom or slavery ?" 

"I don't mean that," he replied. "Ask them whether I 
do not treat them well? whether I am not kind to them? 
whether they do not have plenty to eat and drink while they 
are with me ?" 

I told him that I had no doubt of the fact ; that they look- 
ed clean, comfortable, and well fed ; but — And in that " but" 
lay the Avhole case, though the worthy dealer of New Orleans 
was totally incapable of comprehending it. 

As ab-eady mentioned, I had received many invitations 
while in the South to visit plantations of cotton, sugar, and 

12 



202 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEBIC A. 

rice, that I might see the slaves in their homes, and watch 
them at their labors in the field or the swamp, and judge for 
myself whether they were well or ill treated, and Avhether their 
owners were men of the patriarchal type, like Abraham of old, 
or of the type of Blunderbore in the child's story — ogres of 
cruelty and oppression. I was unable to accept any of these 
invitations until my arrival in Charleston, when I gladly 
availed myself of the opportunity afforded me by the courteous 
hospitality of General Gadsden to visit his rice plantation at 
Pimlico. The general is known both to Europe and America 
as the negotiator of the famous Gadsden Treaty with Mexico, 
by means of which a portion of the large province of Sonora 
was annexed to the already overgrown dominion of Brother 
Jonathan. His estate at Pimlico is situated about twenty- 
seven miles from Charleston. The general owns on this 
property between two and three hundred slaves, but only re- 
sides upon it for a small portion of the year, having posses- 
sions in Florida and other parts of the Union, and being com- 
pelled, like all other men of European blood, to avoid, in the 
warm weather, the marshy regions favorable to rice cultiva- 
tion. 

From Charleston the railway for twenty miles runs as 
straight as an arrow's flight through a forest of primeval pine. 
These melancholy trees form the most conspicuous feature of 
the landscape in the two Carolinas and in Georgia. Often 
for whole days, and for hundreds of miles, the traveler sees no 
other vegetation but this rank, monotonous forest growth. 
Here and there a cleai-ing, here and there a swamp, here and 
there a village, dignified with the title of a town or of a city, 
and one unvarying level of rich but uncultivated land — such 
is the general characteristic of the " sunny South" as the trav- 
eler leaves the sea-board and penetrates inward to the great 
valley of the Mississippi. In less than an hour and a half our 
train stopped at a station at which there was neither clerk, 
nor check-taker, nor porter, nor official of any kind. Having 
descended, luggage in hand, we saw our train dart away into 
the long-receding vista of the forest, and awaited in solitude 
the vehicle which had been ordered from Pimlico to convey us 



A RICE PLANTATIOlSr. 203 

to the plantation. We being before, or the negro-driver after 
the appointed time, we had to remain about a quarter of an 
hour at the station, and amuse ourselves as best we might. 
Though the station itself was deserted, a small log hut and in- 
closure almost immediately opposite swarmed Avith life. A 
whole troop of ragged children, with fair hair and blue eyes, 
played about the clearing ; a donkey browsed upon the scanty 
undergrowth ; cocks crowed upon the fence ; hens cackled in 
the yard ; and lean pigs prowled about in every direction, 
seeking what they might devour. The loneliness of the place, 
with the deep, thick pine woods all around it, and the shiny lines 
of rail stretching as far as the vision could penetrate in one 
unbroken parallel into the wilderness, suggested the inquiry 
as to who and what were the inhabitants of the log hut. 
" The pest of the neighborhood," was the reply. " Here 
lives a German Jew and his family, who keep a store for the 
accommodation of the negroes." "And how a pest?" "The 
negi-oes require no accommodation. They are supplied by 
their owners with every thing necessary for their health and 
comfort ; but they resort to places like this with property 
which they steal from their masters, and which the men ex- 
change, at most nefarious profit to the Jew receiver, for whis- 
ky and tobacco, and which the females barter for ribbons and 
tawdry finery. Wherever there is a large plantation, these 
German traders — if it be not a desecration of the name of 
trade to apply it to their business — squat in the neighbor- 
hood, build up a wooden shanty, and open a store. If a sad- 
dle, a coat, or a watch be lost, the planter may be tolerably 
certain that it has been bartered by his negroes at some such 
place as this for whisky or tobacco. The business is so profit- 
able that, although the delinquent may be sometimes detected 
and imprisoned, he soon contrives to make money enough to 
remove with his ill-gotten gains to the Far West, where his 
antecedents are unknown and never inquired after, and where, 
perhaps under a new name, he figures as a great merchant in 
the more legitimate business of a dry-goods store." 

A drive of five miles through the forest, in the course of 
which we had to cross a swamp two feet deep with water, 



204 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

brought us to Pimlico and its mansion, pleasantly embowered 
among trees of greater beauty and variety than we had passed 
on our way. Among these, the live or evergreen oak, the cy- 
press, the cedar, and the magnolia, were the most conspicuous. 
The mansion, like most of the houses in the South, where 
trees are abundant and stone is scarce, was built of wood, and 
gave but little exterior promise of the comfort and clogance 
to be found within. Here Ave fared sumptuously, having our 
choice of drinks, from London porter and Allsop's India ale, 
to Hock and Claret, and Catawba and Isabella, of Longworth's 
choicest growth. The food Avas of every variety, including 
fish with names unknown in Europe, but of most excellent 
quality, and game in an abundance with which Europe can 
scarcely claim equality. The greatest novelty was the small 
turtle called the "cooter," similar to, but smaller than the 
" terrapin," so Avell known and esteemed in Baltimore, Phil- 
adelphia, and Washington. The " cooter" is, it appears, a 
perquisite of the slaves. They will not themselves eat it, 
looking upon its flesh with loathing and aversion, but in their 
leisux'e moments they seek it in the water-coui'ses and trenches, 
or at the borders of the streams, and sell it to their masters. 
Among other privileges whicli they arc allowed may be here 
mentioned that of keeping poultry on their own account, the 
profits of which enable them to buy tobacco for themselves 
and finery for their Avives. 

In the morning we sallied over the plantation, \uider the 
guidance of the general, and saw the whole art and mystery 
of rice cultivation. At high water, the river, which gives the 
estate its value, is five feet above the level of the rice-ground, 
so that by means of sluices it is easy to flood the plantation, 
or any part of it, and just as easy to let off" the water as soon 
as the growing crop has received a sufficient steeping. The 
rice is submitted to three several floodings before it is fit to be 
harvested. The first, in the early spring, is called "the sprout 
flow ;" the second, or intermediate, when the green stalks 
have acquired a certain strength and height, is called " the long 
flow ;" and the last, " the harvest flow." 

Between each " floAV," the slaves, male and female, arc em- 



A RICE PLANTATION. 205 

ployed in gangs, under the superintendence of the overseer (or 
" boss," as the negroes always call a master of any kind), in 
hoeing among the roots. In this occupation we found about 
a hundred and fifty of them in diti'ei'ent parts of the estate. 
They were not asked to rest from their labor on our arrival. 
They were coarsely but comfortably clad, and wore that cheer- 
ful good-humored expression of countenance which seems to 
be the equivalent and the compensation granted by paternal 
Providence for their loss of freedom. Measured by mere phys- 
ical enjoyment, and absence of care or thought of the morrow, 
the slave is, doubtless, as a general rule, far happier than his 
master. His wants are few, he is easily satisfied, and his toil 
is not excessive. 

Kambling along the raised dikes and sluices, the strangers 
of the party were surprised to see the immense flocks of birds 
which suddenly rose from the ground or from the low bushes 
that fringed the stream, and which sometimes settled ujion a 
tree in countless thousands till the branches seemed to bend 
beneath their weight. They were declared to be blackbirds ; 
but a boy of about twelve years of age, the adopted son of the 
the general, who had been out all the morning with his gun 
making havoc among them, having brought one for our in- 
spection, it was found to be very different from the blackbird 
of Europe. It wanted the golden bill and the glowing plu- 
mage, and had, instead of them, a white bill and a breast 
speckled like that of tlie English thrush. It was too early in 
the season for the alligators to make their appearance ; but 
they swarm in the river in the months of June and July, and 
commit sad depredation, not only among the fish, but among 
the ducks and geese, or wild-fowl that frequent the stream. 
Alligators are said to be quite equal to the Chinese in their 
partiality for dogs and cats when they can get hold of them ;' 
but cats are proverbial for their dislike of water, and dogs are 
too knowing to treat themselves to the luxury of a bath in any 
stream where the alligator is found, so that the poor alligator 
seldom enjoys the dainty that he most loves. But the bark 
of a dog excites him as much as the sight of a live turtle does 
a London alderman ; and you have but to bring a dog to the 



206 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

brink of a river and make him bark, wlien the alligators, un- 
less they suspect mischief, will pop their long noses out of the 
water, and yearn for the delicacy which hard Fate has denied 
them. 

From the rice-grounds our party proceeded to the negro vil- 
lage where the slaves resided. Most of the occupiers were at 
work in the fields ; but we entered some of the tenements, and 
found nothing to object to on the score of comfort. To each 
hut was attached a plot of ground for a garden ; but none of 
the gardens were cultivated, or gave the slightest promise of a 
flower. In one there was a luxuriant peach-tree in full bloom 
— -a perfect blaze of crimson beauty — but, as a general rvde, the 
negro has either no love of gardens, or no time to attend to 
their cultivation. From all I could gather here and elsewhere, 
and as the result of my own observation, the former and not 
the latter reason explains the neglect of this beautiful and in- 
nocent means of enjoyment which both climate and circum- 
stances place within the reach of the black population. 

In the village there were a hospital, an infirmary for the 
sick, a chapel, where twice every Sunday Divine service was 
performed by a missionary, allowed to have access to the slaves 
upon condition of not preaching freedom to them, and a nurs- 
ery, where the young children, from the earliest age upward 
to fourteen, were taken care of during the absence of their 
parents in the fields. The elder boys and girls were made use- 
ful in nursing the infants ; and the whole swarm, to the num- 
ber of nearly seventy, were drawn up by the side of the road, 
and favored us with several specimens of their vocal powers. 
The general declared them to be " hominy-eaters" and not 
workers ; and they certainly looked as if hominy agreed with 
them, for a plumper and more joyous set of children it would 
have been difficult to assemble together in any country under 
the sun. Their songs were somewhat more hearty than mu- 
sical. The entertainment was concluded by the Methodist 
hymn, "And that will be joyful, joyful," which the vocifer- 
ous singers contrived unconsciously to turn into a comic song. 
But this feat, I may as well mention, is not peculiar to little 
negroes, for some obstreperous free Americans on board of our 



A RICE PLANTATION". 207 

outward-bound steamer favored their fellow-passengers with a 
similar exhibition, and even managed to make a comic song 
out of the " Old Hundreth." 

We were next introduced to " Uncle Tom" — such was the 
name by which he had been known long before the publication 
of Mrs. Stowe's novel — a venerable negro who had been fifty 
years upon the plantation. His exact age was not known, but 
he was a strong hearty man when brought from the coast of 
Africa in the year 1808. " Tom" had been sold by some petty 
African king or chief at the small price of an ounce of tobacco, 
and had been brought over with upward of two hundred sim- 
ilar unfortunates by an American slaver. He was still hale 
and vigorous, and had within a few years married a young 
wife belonging to a neighboring planter. Pie was told by the 
general that I had come to take him back to Africa ; an an- 
nouncement which seemed to startle and distress him, for he 
suddenly fell on his knees before me, clasped his hands, and 
imploi-ed me in very imperfect and broken English to let him 
stay where he was. Every one that he had known in Africa 
must have long since died ; the ways of his own country would 
be strange to him, and perhaps his own countrymen would 
put him to death, or sell him again into slaveiy to some new 
master. He was much relieved to find that my intentions 
were neither so large nor so benevolent, though malevolent 
would perhaps be a better word to express the idea which im- 
pressed itself upon his mind in reference to my object in visit- 
ing him. The old man was presented with a cigar by one of 
our party, and with a glass of whisky by the general's or- 
ders, and he courteously drank the health of every one pres- 
ent, both collectively and individually. Drinking to a lady, 
he expressed the gallant wish that she might grow more beau- 
tiful as she grew older; and to the donor of the cigai*, he ut- 
tered his hope that at the last day " Gor Almighty might hide 
him in some place where the devil not know where to find 
him." 

On this plantation I have no doubt, from what I saw, that 
the slaves are kindly treated, and that the patriarchal relation 
in all its best aspects exists between the master and his poor 



208 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

dependents. But I do not wish to depict this one as a sample 
of" all, but coulhic myself to a simple narrative of what I saAv. 
Slavery has niauy aspects, and upon some future occasion I 
may be enabled to state some other facts, less patent, which 
may tlu'ow lii>ht upon its operation not only upon the fortunes 
and character of the white men who hold them in bondage, 
but upon the future destinies of the United States of America. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

SAVANNAH AND THE SEA ISLANDS. 

March, ISHS. 
From Charleston to Savannah by sea is a distance of one 
hundred miles ; by land — there being no railway commimica- 
tion, except by traversing two sides of a triangle — the distance 
is about two hundred. A direct coast railway is in course of 
construction ; but at pi'esent most travelers, except those who 
are very bad sailors, prefer the sea passage. As I had already 
gone over a considerable portion of the land route, through the 
pine forests of Georgia and Soutli Carolina, 

"Where, northward as 3'0ii go, 
The ]>iiies forever i;ro\v ; 
Wliore, southward if you bend, 
Are june-trccs witliout end; 
. Where, if you travel west, 

Earth loves the pine-tree best ; 
Wliero, eastward if you gaze, 
Through long, unvaried ways, 
Behind j'on and before. 
Arc pine-trees evermore ;" 

I preferred the sea, as offering moi-e comfort, as well as more 
novelty, than the land route. Taking my passage in the tidy 
little boat, the St. 3faiy's, bound for the St. John's Kiver in 
Florida, and touching at Savannah, I found myself in comfort- 
able quarters. The crew consisted entirely of negro slaves ; 
the only white men on board, the passengers excepted, being 
the captain and the clerk. There are two routes to Savannah 
by sea — one the outer, and one the inner — and the St. Mary's 



SAVANNAH AND THE SEA ISLANDS. 209 

being more of a river than a sea boat, only ventures on the 
outer passage when the weather is cahn. Such being the case 
on this particuhir day, wc made a short and pleasant passage, 
leaving the hai-bor of Charleston at nine in the morning, and 
arriving at Savannah before seven in the evening. It was not 
until Ave arrived at the mouth of the Savannah River, and be- 
gan to steam up for eighteen miles to tlic city, that the scenery 
offered any attractions. On each side was a low, flat, fertile 
country, with i*eeds twenty feet high — the summer haunts of 
the alligator — growing upon the bank, and the land studded 
with palmetto trees, rice iilantations, and negro villages. As 
the night darkened the blaze of a burning ibrest lit up the 
whole of the landward horizon, and gave lurid evidence that 
man was at work, and displacing the wilderness to make room 
for rice and cotton. The flocks of wild-fowl upon the Savan- 
nah positively darkened the air, and, when the birds descended 
to feed or rest, it seemed as if black clouds, moved by their 
own volition, had taken refuge among the reeds and canes. 
The Savannah River divides the States of Georgia and South 
Carolina for a portion of its length. It is navigable for sea 
steamers only as far as the city of Savannah, and for steamers 
of a smaller draught as far as Augusta, the second city of 
Georgia, 230 miles inland. 

Savannah was founded in 1732 by the celebrated General 
Oglethorpe, and is the chief city of Georgia, though not the 
capital, that honor being conferred, as is usual in the States, 
upon a more central place, of very inferior importance. Mil- 
ledgeville, the political capital, contains a population of about 
3000 persons, while Savannah, the commercial capital, has a 
population of upward of 30,000, of whom about one half arc 
slaves. Of all the cities In America, none impresses itself 
more vividly upon the imagination and the memory than this 
little green bowery city of the South. It stands upon a tei*- 
race about forty feet higher than the river, and presents the 
appearance of an agglomeration of rural hamlets and small 
towns. If four-and-twcnty villages had resolved to hold a 
meeting, and had assembled at this place, each with its pump, 
its country church, its common, and its avenue of trees, the 



210 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

result would have been a fac simile of Savannah. Twenty- 
four open spaces, as large as, or larger than Bedford Square, 
with a pump in the middle, a church or a bank at one f^ide, 
and neat wooden and stone houses around, the open spaces 
being laid out into Avalks and drives, and thickly planted with 
trees, among which the flowering China-tree or pride of India, 
the oelanthus, and the evergreen oak are the most pi'ominent — 
such arc the component parts and general aspect of Savan- 
nah. The soil is so loose and sandy that a good road is a 
luxury to be read of and imagined by the people, but not to 
be enjoyed for want of stone and every other material of suf- 
iicient hardness. There is, it is true, about a mile and a half 
of shell road leading toward the lovely estate of Bonaventura 
on which a carriage can roll Avith a moderate amount of com- 
fort. This road gives so much satisfaction that the people 
are determined to extend it, and to imitate it in other direc- 
tions by such means as fortune and circumstances have placed 
within their control. Like all Americans, whether of the 
North or the South, the inhabitants of Savannah, rich or 
poor, free or slave, consume immense quantities of oysters. 
For breakfast, for dinner, and for supper, oysters, in one foi-m 
or another, are sure to be supplied to all above the poorest 
classes of the population ; and here there are few who can be 
called as absolutely poor as their compeers in Eui'ope. The 
result is, according to the calculation of a notable inhabitant, 
that Savannah consumes in a year a sufficient quantity of 
oysters to leave shells enough for the construction of one 
mile of road. But at present the roads are no exception to 
the general badness of American thoroughfares. They are 
dusty and rutty in the fine weather, muddy and rutty when it 
rains. 

Tlie view from the Custom-house and Exchange, and from 
the street occupied by the stores, offices, and warehouses of 
the merchants, and which skirts the river for a mile, extends 
to the distant horizon over a low, flat country, covered for 
the most part Avith rice plantations and marshy ground. A 
gentleman of this city who had fdled a diplomatic appoint- 
ment in Turkey and Egypt, and whose courtesies at Savan- 



SAVANNAH AND THE SEA ISLANDS. 213 

nah I gratefully remember, declarecl that he often thought he 
was looking at Egypt when he looked at this portion of Geor- 
gia. There were the same climate, the same atmosphere, the 
same soil, the same cultivation, and a river offering the same 
characteristics as the Nile. But of all the scenery in and 
about Savannah, the Cemetery of Bonaventura is the most 
remarkable. There is nothing like it in America, or perhaps 
in the world. Its melancholy loveliness, once seen, can never 
be forgotten. Dull indeed must be the imagination, and cold 
the fancy of any one who could wander through its weird and 
fairy avenues without being deeply impressed with its solemni- 
ty and appropriateness for the last resting-place of the dead. 
One melancholy enthusiast, a clergyman, weary of his life, 
disgusted with the world, with a bi'ain weakened by long 
brooding over a disappointed affection, happened in an evil 
moment to stray into this place. He had often meditated sui- 
cide, and the insane desire took possession of his mind with 
more than its usual intensity as he lingered in this solemn 
and haunted spot. For days and nights he wandered about 
it and through it, and at last determined in his melancholy 
phrensy that to die for the satisfaction of being buried in that 
place would be the supremest happiness the world could of- 
fer. He wrote his last sad wishes upon a piece of paper, left 
it upon a tomb, and leaped into the Savannah River. His 
body was discovered some days afterward ; but — alas for the 
vanity of human wishes ! — his dying request was not com- 
plied with, and it was decided by the authorities that he 
should be buried in the city of Savannah. So he died as lie 
had lived — in vain. 

And why is the Cemeteiy of Bonaventura so eminently 
beautiful ? Let me try to describe it. The place was for- 
merly the country seat of an early settler named Tatnall, one 
of the founders of the colony of Georgia. This gentleman, 
though he came to a forest land where trees were considered 
a nuisance, admired the park -like beauty around the great 
country mansions of the nobility and gentry in his native En- 
gland, and, while every one else in the colony was cutting 
down trees, made himself busy in planting them. Having 



214 LIFE AWD LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

built himself a house on the estate of Bonaventura, he planted 
an avenue or carriage-drive leading up to its porch, and the 
tree he chose for the purpose was the evergreen oak, next to 
the cypress and the magnolia the noblest tree in the Southern 
States of America. In due time, long after the good man's 
death, the trees attained a commanding height, and from their 
boughs hung the long, feathery festoons of the tillandsia, or 
Spanish moss, that lends such melancholy beauty to all the 
Southern landscape. In the shadow of the wild wood around 
this place the Tatnalls are buried ; but the mansion-house, 
which was of wood — as neai-ly all the rural dwellings are in 
Georgia and the Carolinas — having taken fire one Christmas 
evening, Avhen a large party were assembled, and being utter- 
ly destroyed, with the sole exception of the chimneys and a 
little brick-work, the then owner took a dislike to the place, 
and never rebuilt the dwelling. The estate was ultimately 
sold, and now belongs to Mr, Wiltberger, the proprietor of the 
Pulaski House at Savannah, who, finding the tombstones of 
the Tatnalls and others in the ground, had a portion set aside 
for the purposes of a public cemetery. Never was a place 
more beautifully adapted by nature for such an object. The 
mournful avenue of live oak, and the equally mournful glades 
that pierce on every side into the profuse and tangled wilder- 
ness, are all hung with the funereal drapery of the tillandsia. 
To those who have never seen this peculiar vegetation it may 
be difficult to convey an adequate idea of its sadness and 
loveliness. It looks as if the very trees, instinct with life, 
had veiled themselves like mourners at a grave, or as if the 
fogs and vapors from the marshes had been solidified by some 
stroke of electricity, and hung from the trees in palpable 
wreaths, swinging and swaying to every motion of the winds. 
Not unlike the efl^ect produced by the tattered banners hung 
from the roofs of Gothic cathedrals as trophies of war in the 
olden time, or to mark the last resting-places of knights and 
nobles, is the eflfect of these long streamers pending from the 
overarching boughs of the forest. Many of them are so long 
as to trail upon the ground from a height of twenty or thirty 
feet, and many of the same length, drooping from the topmost 



SAVANNAH AND THE SEA ISLANDS. 215 

branches of oak and cypress, tlangle in mid air. What adds 
to the awe inspired by tlie remarkable beauty of this parasitic 
plant is the alleged fact that wherever it flourishes the yellow 
fever is from time to time a visitant. It grows plentifully on 
the shores of the Lower Mississippi from Cairo to New Or- 
leans, and throughout all Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, 
Tennessee, Georgia, and South Carolina. In North Carolina 
it is not so common, and disappeai'S altogether in Virginia. 
In New Orleans it has been converted into an article of com- 
merce, and being dried and peeled, it is used instead of horse- 
hair — which in this condition it much resembles — for stuffing 
mattresses and cushions for chairs and sofas. 

As I had determined to return to Charleston by sea, I glad- 
ly awaited at Savannah the return of the St. Mary's from 
Florida. It was not until thirty hours after her appointed 
time that the little steamer, with her white captain and her 
black crew, reappeared in the river. She had met with strong 
head winds at sea, and, the bad weather still continuing, the 
captain determined to try the inner instead of the outer pas- 
sage. This arrangement was in every way to my taste, as it 
would afford me the opportunity of sailing through the count- 
less and picturesque mazes of the Sea Islands. These islands 
extend from Charleston downward to Savannah, and as far 
south as the great peninsula of Florida, and are famous for 
the production of the fine staple so well known and esteemed 
in all the cotton markets of the world — from New Orleans, 
Mobile, and Charleston, to Liverpool, Manchester, and Glas- 
gow — as the " Sea Island cotton." In the summer this re- 
gion is not habitable by the whites, but in the early spring 
there is neither fog nor fever, and the climate is delicious. 
Though the storm raged in the outer sea, the weather was 
calm, sunny, and beautiful as the St. Mary's threaded her way 
for a hundred and fifty miles through the narrow channels 
amid these low and fertile islands, some as large as the Isle 
of Wight or the Isle of Man, others as small as the islets of 
Venice. 

At times the water-way was like that of a noble river, 
broad as the Mississippi, but without its currents, and at 



216 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

others not ■\viclcr than the Regent's Canal, or the New River 
at Islington. So narrow was it at times that we could have 
jumped ashore from either side of the deck ; but the feat, 
though possible, and indeed easy, was not inviting; for, had 
any one been frolicsome enough to do so, he would have found 
himself up to the middle, or perchance to the neck, in soft 
bog and swamp. AVe had often to twist and turn in places 
where it seemed quite impossible that a steam-boat could pass, 
and the negroes had continually to push us out of difficulties 
by means of sturdy poles ten or twelve feet long — an exercise 
in which some of the passengers seemed delighted to take 
part. The tall rushes and reeds grew up to the height of the 
deck ; and, had it been midsummer, we might have disturbed 
many an alligator as we wound our way, north and south, 
east and west, for into the bowels of the land, and tlien out 
again toward the sea, in this intricate navigation. Twenty 
times at least the ^S'^ ]{fari/'s seemed fast aground, and as often 
did stalwart negroes launch the ship's boat and row ashore, 
to athx a tow-rope to a stake left amid the vegetation in pre- 
vious voyages, to enable us to be manoeuvred oft'again. The 
whole voyage was one constant succession of novelties of scene 
and adventure. 

From the deck we could look over a large expanse of conn- 
try, studded with cotton-tields, with the white mansions of the 
planters, with negro villages, and with here and there a stretch 
of pasture land in which the cattle were feeding. Amid the 
swamp the palmetto, sometimes singly, sometimes in clusters, 
raised its graceful branches, while on the higher grounds, and 
sometimes on the bank of the channel, were clumps of pines 
and evergreen oaks, all hung with the graceful but melancholy 
drapery of the tillandsia. At one turn we came suddenly 
upon a negro village, and several little " darkies," from the 
ages of three to ten, some entirely and others partially naked, 
who were upon a dungheap, set up a shout of delight on our 
arrival, which speedily brought forth the sable eldei*s of the 
place, as well as the dogs, to take a look at us ; the adults 
grinning and showing their white teeth, the dogs and the 
children vying Avith each other who should make the most 



FROil SOUTH CAROLINA TO VIRGINIA. 217 

noise in our honor. Many of the planters' houses which we 
passed were large and commodious, and surrounded by groves 
of oak, cedar, and magnolia, giving the place the leafy atti'ac- 
tions of an English midsummer all through the ■ftdnter. 

There is throughout all this country a veiy considerable 
population engaged in the cultivation of the Sea Island cotton, 
and the villages as well as coimtry mansions wex-e numerous 
as we passed. Here, for four or five months in the year, the 
planter lives like a patriarch of the olden time, or like a petty 
despotic monarch, surrounded by his obedient subjects, with a 
white " oikonomos," or overseer, for his prime minister, who, 
on his part, is condemned to endure the climate the whole 
year, that the slaves may be kept in order, while the master 
himself hurries away with his family to the far North — to 
New York or to Newport, and very often to London and 
Paris — to spend the abundant revenues of his cotton crop. 
We passed one considerable town or city — that of Beaufort, 
the capital of the Sea Islands, and pleasantly as well as im- 
posingly situated — and then, steaming through the broad chan- 
nel of the AVhapoo, reached Charleston after a long but by no 
means disagreeable passage of forty-eight hours. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

FROM SOUTH CAROLINA TO VIRGINIA. 

March, 1858. 
Away again through the eternal pine forests for hundreds 
of miles ! The railway was as straight as an arroAv's flight or 
a mathematical line, and we had to travel for thirty hours 
without other stoppages than an occasional ten minutes or 
quarter of an hour for breakfast or dinner. The country was 
unpicturesque, the railway the reverse of comfortable, and 
sleep, if wooed, was difficult to be won in "cars" or carriages 
where there was no support for the back or the head of the 
unhappy traveler ; where there was not even a place to stow 
away a hat, a stick, an umbrella, or a bag ; and where about 
sixty persons of all ages and conditions of life, including half 

K 



218 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEKICA. 

a dozen young children, and at least twenty people who chewed 
tobacco and spat, were closely packed in an atmosphere de- 
prived of all its moisture and elasticity by the red heat of the 
anthracite stove that glowed and throbbed in the middle of 
this locomotive den. Behind the stove, on the side of the car, 
in lai'ge letters, was the following inscription : 

AEE REQUESTED 
NOT TO sprr 

^ The sto 

And here, as well as at any other point of his journey, let a 
European, unaccustomed to the odious practice of tobacco- 
chewing, and its concomitant and still more odious practice 
of spitting, so disgustingly prevalent in the Southern and 
Western States, and to a minor extent in the Northern, dis- 
burden himself upon the subject, and have done with it. Be- 
fore Avitnessing the extent and prevalence of this fdthiness, I 
imagined that the accounts given by preceding travelers were 
exaggerations and caricatures, intended to raise an ill-natured 
laugh ; but observation speedily convinced me that all I had 
previously read upon the subject fell short of the truth, and 
that it would be dilUcult to exaggerate the extent of the vice, 
and the callousness with which it is regarded even by people 
of education and refinement. Americans Avho have traveled 
in Europe do not seem annoyed that strangers should take 
notice of the practice and be offended by it ; but custom so 
dulls even their perception of its ofi^ensiveness that they con- 
sider the fault-finders as somewhat squeamish and over-sen- 
sitive. Once, at Washington, I found myself the centre of a 
group of members of Congress, two of whom were among the 
most expert and profuse spitters (I was going to write expec- 
torators, but the word is not strong enough) whom it was ever 
my fortune to meet with, when, the conversation having tui*n- 
ed upon the military prowess and skill of several gentlemen 
who had distinguished themselves in the INIexican Avar, I was 
suddenly asked by one of thena — Avho cleared his mouth, for 



FROM SOUTH CAROLINA TO YIKGTXIA, 219 

the purpose, of a most poi-tentons llootl of tobacco-juice — avIio, 
in ray opiuion, aud in that of Englishmen who studied Amer- 
ican politics, was the greatest general in the United States? 
The reply was. General SriT. " Well," said the senator, " I 
calculate you are about right ; and though you, as a Britisher, 
may say so, I should advise you not to put the observation 
into print, as some of our citizens might take it as personal." 
On another occasion, an eniincnt lawyer, who had lilled some 
of the highest offices of the state, a man to whom ancient and 
modern literature Avere equally familiar, who had studied Eu- 
ropean as Avell as American politics, whose mind seemed to 
have run through the whole circle of human knowledge, and 
who could converse eloquently on any subject, though, while 
he spoke, the tobacco-juice oozed out of the corners of his 
mouth, and ran down upon his shirt-front and waistcoat, took 
a large cake of tobacco from his side-pocket, and courteously 
offered me a chew. The cake, I should think, weighed about 
half a pound. I asked him if he had ever calculated how 
many gallons of spit such a cake repi-oscnted ? '' Well," he 
said, putting the cake back again into his pocket, " it is a dis- 
gusting habit. I quite agree Avith you. I have made several 
attempts to break myself of it, but in A^iin. I can not think 
or work Avithout a chcAv ; and, although I knoAv It injiu'cs my 
stomach, and is in other respects bad for me, I am the slave 
of the habit, and Avill, I feai", be so to the end of my days." 
Even in the presence of ladies the chewers and spittcrs do not 
relent ; and ladies seem almost, if not quite, as inditferent to 
the practice as the other sex. In theatres and lecture-rooms 
are constantly to be seen inscriptions requesting gentlemen 
not to spit in the boxes or on the stoves ; and in all places of 
public resort the spittoon is an iuA'ariable article of fui-niture. 
Spittoons garnish the marble steps of the Capitol at Washing- 
ton ; spittoons arc in all the reading-rooms, bars, lobbies, and 
offices of the hotels ; spittoons in every raihvay-car ; and in 
the halls of every State Legislature Avhich I visited, the Par- 
liamentary spittoons seemed to be as indispensable as the desks 
and benches of the members. If the American eagle AA-erc 
represented as holding in his or her cLiav a spittoon instead of 



220 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

the thunderbolt of Jove, the change might not be graceful or 
poetical, but would certainly not be inappropriate. But enough 
on this subject, which I would gladly have omitted to men- 
tion if I had not hoped, as I do, that the concurrent testimony 
of all travelers Avill ultimately produce some effect, and that, 
sooner or later, gentlemen addicted to this form of intemper- 
ance — for there are many gentlemen among them — will be 
shamed out of a habit so loathsome in itself, and so prejudicial 
to the health, bodily as well as mental, of all who indulge 
in it. 

But do Europeans come into court with clean hands when 
they accuse Americans of the abuse of tobacco? Are not En- 
glishmen in some respects almost as filthy ? And is it, in re- 
ality, more disgusting to chew tobacco, than it is to walk in 
the streets, with or without a lady — but more especially with 
a lady — smoking either a cigar or a pipe in her presence? 
Is it not, in fact, as vulgar for any one to smoke as it would 
be to eat in the street ? And is it more offensive in men to 
chew than it is in boys and youths to smoke ? These are but 
questions of degree, and in some respects the American chew- 
er is less offensive than the English street-smoker. The chew- 
er poisons his own mouth, it is true, but he poisons no one's 
else, which is more than can be said for the smoker, who pours 
his pestilential fumes into the wholesome atmosphere, which 
belongs quite as much to his inoffensive fellow-mortal, the 
non-smoker, as to him, and which he, the smoker, has no le- 
gal, moral, or natural right to contaminate, to the annoyance 
or the injury of his neighbor. 

The first night brought us to a place called Florence, 
whence, after a stoppage of twenty minutes, we started — 
sleepy, but sleepless — through the pine woods once again. 
At morning dawn Ave were in the State of North Carolina, 
and still amid the pine woods, stretching, vast and apparently 
illimitable, on every side. Most of the trees on our line of 
travel were tapped for their precious juice, and at every sta- 
tion were to be seen barrels of turpentine, the staple produce 
of North Carolina, waiting for transport to the coast, and 
thence to all parts of the civilized world. We made no stay 



FROM SOUTH CAROLINA TO VIRGINIA. 221 

in this ancient commonwealth, -which the "smart," ''go- 
ahead" people farther north have chosen to designate, after 
the well-known personage in Washington Irving's story, as 
the " Rip Van Winkle State," to express thereby their opin- 
ion of the somnolent, unprogressive character of the people. 
AU day our train Avheeled through its forests, and at night we 
expected to enjoy the luxury of a bed in the renowned and 
beautiful city of Richmond, in Virginia. But this was not to 
be. The limit of our train was at the city of Petersburg, 
twenty-two miles from Richmond, where we Avere to "con- 
nect" with another that was to carry us to our destination. 
But our train was two hours behind its time. The connect- 
ing train had started to the appointed minute, and there was 
no help for it but to remain in Petersburg and make the best 
of it. And we made the best of it, and certainly did not fare 
badly. We found an excellent hotel — hsh of names unknown 
in Europe, and most deliciously cooked ; Catawba, both Still 
and Sparkling, of Longworth's best ; and reasonable charges. 
Petersburg is the third city in Virginia in point of population 
and importance ; is situated on the Appomattox River, a 
tributary of the James, by which it has communication with 
the sea ; and contains nearly 20,000 inhabitants. There is 
nothing of interest to be seen here, and, if there were, weary 
travelers such as we, who had not slept for thirty hours, and 
who had to rise the next morning at three o'clock, were not 
likely to start in the evening on any visits of exploration to 
the wonders of nature or the curiosities of art. So to bed wc 
went, and had half a night's rest, being rewarded for the short 
allowance of sleep by the full enjoyment of a more gorgeously 
beautiful sunrise than often falls to the lot of any one to be- 
hold. We crossed at early morn the railway-bridge over the 
sparkling and foaming rapids of the James River, and entered 
Richmond, the capital of the Old Dominion, and the metrop- 
olis of the F. F. V.s. 

The reader may ask what is the Old Dominion ? and wlio 
or what are the F. F. V.s. ? The Old Dominion is the name 
affectionately given to Virginia by its inhabitants, proud of 
its ancient settlement in the days of Queen Elizabeth ; and 



222 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEEICA. 

the F. F. V.s. are the First Families of Virginia. "Who is 
your master V said I to a negro-driver in Washington. "He 
is an F. F. V.," was the reply. "And are you working out 
your freedom V " Yes," he replied. " And when you have 
got it, what will you do T " Stay in Washington, and have 
all my earnings to myself." 

Eichmond is picturesquely seated on a hill, overlooking the 
windings of the James River, and is said to have received 
its name from its resemblance to Richmond in Surrey. But 
this resemblance is difficult to discover ; for the landscape 
seen from Richmond, in Virginia, is almost bare of trees, while 
that from our English Richmond is a paradise of verdure and 
beauty. The Capitol, or Parliament House, stands on the 
crown of the hill, and, seen from a distance, gives the city an 
imposing and imperial air, as if of a city destined to command ; 
but at nearer approach the illusion vanishes, and the Capitol 
dwindles into an insignificant-looking edifice, without either 
beauty or proportion. Lest the Virginians should object to 
the criticism of a stranger on the principal edifice of their state, 
I quote from a local hand-book the following description : 
" The Capitol is a Grreco- American building, having a portico 
at one end, consisting of a colonnade, entablature, and pedi- 
ment, whose apicial angle is rather too acute. There are win- 
dows on all sides, and doors in the two longer sides, which are 
reached by high and unsightly double flights of steps placed 
sidewise, under which are other doors leading to the base- 
ment. The view from the portico is extensive, various, and 
beautiful." 

The " General Assembly" — such is the name given to the 
Parliament of this Commonwealth — was in session on our 
arrival, and the speakers of both the upper and lower House 
did me the honor of admitting me to what is called " the privi- 
lege of the floor." I had thus an opportunity of listening to 
the debates, and of observing the easy, decorous, and expedi- 
tious manner in which the public business is transacted. But 
far more attractive was the library, containing the original 
draught of the Constitution of Virginia by George Mason — a 
man of whom Virginia is, and ought to be proud ; and the 



FROM SOUTH CAROLHSTA TO VIRGINIA. 223 

lower hall of the Capitol, containing the celebrated statue of 
Washington — most illustrious of Virginians as of Americans 
— by Houdon, a French artist. The statue, of the size of life, 
is represented in the costume of an American general, worn 
by the hero, and bears about it all the unmistakable but unde- 
finable signs of being a true portrait. Stuart's portrait of 
Washington — taken in his later years, when he wore false 
teeth, badly made, that gave an undue and unnatural promi- 
nence to his lower jaw — Ls the one by which he is generally 
known. It is difficult to look upon tliat portrait, even if igno- 
rant of the circumstances under which it was taken, without 
forming a hope that it is not a true resemblance- Ploudon's 
statue is very different ; and my first impression on beholding 
it was an instinctive belief that this was the real Washington 
— this the identical patriot — this the man who founded what 
is destined to be the greatest empire in the world. I was not 
a little gratified to learn, some days afterward, that when La- 
fayette visited Richmond, a few years before his death, he af- 
firmed this to be the only likeness of Washington that did 
him justice. " Thus he stood," he said, "and thus he looked. 
This is Washington ! This is my friend ! This is the very 
man !" 

The statue stands on a pedestal four feet and a half high ; 
and no pedestal ought to be much higher, if it be desired that 
the countenance of the person honored or apotheosized should 
be seen by the public, to excite whose emulation it is erected. 
The jiedestal beai-s the following honest, simple, and eloquent 
inscription : 

"The General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Virginia have 
caused this statue to be erected as a monument of affection and grati- 
tude to 

GEORGE WASHINGTON, 

who, uniting to the endowments of the Hero the virtues of the Patriot, 
and exerting both in establishing the Liberties of his Country, lias ren- 
dered his name dear to his Fellow-citizens, and given the world an im- 
mortal example of true Glory. Done in the year of 

CHRIST 

one thousand seven hundred and eighty-eight; and in the year of the 
Commonwealth the Twelfth." 



224 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

The citizens of Virginia had, a few months before my visit, 
just inaugurated, on the hill of the Capitol, another and a 
larger statue of Washington, executed by the eminent and late- 
ly deceased sculptor Crawford. It is a noble equestrian statue 
of bronze gilt, but, to my mind, not equal as a work of art to 
the pre-existing statue of lloudon, and somewhat injured in its 
general cllect by the undue height and disproportionate nar- 
rowness of the pedestal on which it is elevated eighteen feet into 
the air. Around the base are to be ranged six other statues of 
illustrious Virginians, only two of Avhich are as yet completed 
— one of Jefferson, and the other of Patrick Henry. Both of 
these are infinitely superior as works of art to any statues 
which London can boast. But as this of itself would be but 
poor praise, it may be added that these two figures are so dig- 
nilicd, so truthful, and so nearly perfect as to cause a feeling 
of regret that they should serve as accessories and adjuncts to 
a larger statue instead of standing by themselves. 

Richmond contains a population of about 30,000 souls, of 
whom nearly 10,000 are slaves. It carries on a very large 
export trade in wheat and flour, has extensive flour-mills, and 
is noted as the great depot of the Avell-known tobacco for 
which the State of Virginia is celebrated, and in the growth 
and manufacture of which it principally employs its slave 
population. 



CHArTER XXVII. 

FROM RICHMOND TO "WASHINGTON. 

March 24, 1858. 

Weary of the rail and all its nuisances — mental, physical, 
and olfactory — it was with pleasure, after a ride of seventy- 
five miles from the pleasant capital of Virginia, that I found 
myself at Aquia Creek, on the banks of the Potomac, and took 
a place on board the mail-steamer bound up the river for the 
City of Washington. 

The Potomac at this place is a noble stream, apparently 
from two to three miles in width, and far more pictui'esque 



FROM RICHMOND TO WASHINGTON. 225 

than any other river I had seen in North America, with the 
sole exceptions of the Hudson and the St. Lawrence. The 
wooded heights and undulating hills on the eastern and west- 
ern shoi'cs slept in a haze of golden sunlight. The broad 
bosom of the rivei-, unruffled by the slightest breath of wind, 
reflected the landscape like a mirror ; and numerous flocks of 
canvas-back ducks — vagrants fi-om the luxuriant marshes of 
Chesapeake Bay, where they breed in countless myriads — 
floated on the smooth water like tiny argosies. But Balti- 
more is the city iiar excellence of the canvas-back duck — one 
of the greatest delicacies of America ; and what is to be said 
upon that subject shall therefore be resei'ved for its proper 
locality. 

In natural beauty the Potomac is rich, but there is no place 
of any historic or even legendary interest on its banks be- 
tween Aquia Creek and the capital, except one ; but to every 
traveler, whatever his nation, that one is the most interesting 
spot in the United States. But interesting is too weak a word 
to express the feeling with which it is regarded by all the cit- 
izens of the Great Republic, young or old, male or female. It 
is their Mecca and their Jerusalem — hallowed ground, conse- 
crated to all hearts by the remembrance of their great hero 
and patriot — the only one whom all Americans consent to 
honor and revere, and whom to disparage, even by a breath, 
is, in their estimation, a crime only second to blasphemy and 
parricide. Mount Vernon, the home and tomb of George 
Washington, is the sacred spot of the North American conti- 
nent whither pilgrims repair, and on passing Avhich every 
steam-boat solemnly tolls a bell, and every passenger uncovers 
his head, in expression of the national reverence. Our boat 
did not stop to allow us to visit the place — a circumstance 
which I have since much regretted, as I never had another op- 
portunity ; but in the summer season, when travelers are more 
numerous, sufficient time is usually allowed for the purpose 
on the downward ti'ip from Washington. But the bell on the 
upper deck tolled its requiem for the departed, and captain, 
crew, and passengers took off their hats and remained uncov- 
ered until Mount Vernon Avas left behind, and the home and 

K 2 



226 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

grave of the hero were hidden from sight among their embow- 
ering verdure. 

The Americans, as a people, are accused of being utterly 
without reverence. A recent French tourist, more famous for 
music than for philosophy, declared them to be"««e nation 
railleuse et mo<pmise ;" while others have asserted that they 
love and respect nothing but the "almighty dollar." The 
deep homage paid to the memory of Washington is sufficient 
to exonerate the Americans from such a sweeping censure. 
They certainly treat their living statesmen witli little respect. 
They set up a president only to attack and vilify him, just as 
some African savages make an idol that they may kick and 
cuff while they pretend to pray to it ; and the abuse which 
they at times lavish upon some of the ablest, noblest, and 
purest-minded of their statesmen is such as to afford some 
grounds for the belief that veneration is not the organ Avhich 
is most largely developed in the American brain. But this 
view of the matter is a superficial one. There are no living 
men to whom they owe loyalty, or toward whom they can feel 
it ; for it is they who make, and who, if need be, can mimakc 
presidents, governors, and members of Congress. It is they 
who are the only source and the sole agents of power. They 
arc so courted and flattered by knaves, at all sorts of elections, 
for all sorts of offices, from that of president down to that of 
door-keeper in a court of justice, and so besmeared with fair 
words, which mean nothing, by intriguers who put their 
tongues in their cheeks almost before their fine speeches are 
ended, that they value their public men at exceedingly little. 
Terhaps they treat their great authors, painters, and sculp- 
tors with more regard ; for literary men and artists do not, as 
such, canvass for votes, or stand upon phitforms to flatter a 
mob, but rely solely upon their genius, to be appreciated or 
not, as the people please. In this respect the universal homage 
rendered to the venerable Washington Irving, and the affec- 
tion with Avhich the mention of his name is every where re- 
ceived ; the pride with which all people of eveiy party speak 
of such writers as Prescott, the able historian and accomplish- 
ed gentleman, and of many others who have made American 



FROM RICHMOND TO WASHINGTON. 227 

literature illustrious in our clay, is a proof that, beyond the 
sphere of politics iintl the bitter question of slavery, the Amer- 
icans can render ample justice to their living greatness. Yet, 
if ungrateful to men in public life, and especially to politicians, 
they maktj amends to the memory of the illustrious dead, and 
prove abundantly that they have both loyalty and veneration 
in their nature by pouring them around the name of Wash- 
ington, and in a minor degree around those of other early 
heroes and founders of the republic, such as Franklin, Hamil- 
ton, Jefferson, Mason, Adiims, Patrick Henry, and, in more 
recent times, those of Clay, Calhoun, Andrew Jackson, and 
Quincy Adams. Antl, as regards living statesmen, before w^e 
accuse the Americans of want of veneration for authority, let 
us ask ourselves who can be better abused than a prime min- 
ister of England, or a leader of the House of Commons ? 

Mr. J. A. AVashington, the present repi-esentative of the 
family of Washington, and proprietor of the Mount Vernon 
estate, to whom I had the honor of an introduction, at the 
hospitable table of Mr. G. P. 11. James, the British consul at 
Richmond, had incurred considerable odium at the time of my 
visit — odium which, whether deserved or not, was more than 
sufficient to show that the loyalty of Americans Avas not ren- 
dered to a mere name, but was jealously reserved for individual 
services and glory. A lady of Richmond, Miss Pamela Cun- 
ningham, weak in body, but strong in mind, bedridden, but 
able to wield an eloquent and persuasive pen, entertained, 
with many others, the idea that the tomb of Washington ought 
to belong, not to any individual propi'ietor, even though his 
name were Washington, but to the American people. Miss 
Cunningham may not, perhaps, have been more strongly im- 
bued with this idea than others ; but it is certain that she 
gave moi'C effect to her feelings than any of the persons who 
may have shared the conviction before she gave it life and 
palpability. From her sick-bed she wrote and dictated let- 
ters to the newspapers to stir up the senlimcnt and enthusiasm 
of the countiy. Her appeals — earnest, simple, and eloquent 
— answered their purpose. She summoned the ladies of 
America to unite with her, as statesmanship and Congress 



228 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

would do nothing to aid them, and to form an association for 
the purchase of Mount Vernon by the voluntary subscriptions 
of the American people. In the course of a few months she 
found herself burdened with an amount of correspondence to 
Avhich that of a Secretary of State was a trifle. The ladies 
responded cordially to the appeal from every part of the 
Union, and gave not only their names, but their time and 
talents to the work. Madame Le Vert, of Mobile, wrote a 
book of her travels in Europe, and handed over the profits to 
the Mount Vernon Association. Other ladies painted pic- 
tures, composed music, established fancy bazars, got up balls 
and concerts, and all for the purchase of Washington's tomb. 
Others, again, who objected to such aids to a good cause, and 
who had influence, marital or filial, over popular preachers, 
enlisted them in the subscription, vuitil there was scarcely a 
church or chapel in the land of which the congregations 
had not subscribed to the fund. And last, but by no means 
least, Mr. Everett, the most eloquent of living Americans, was 
brought into the service. He was persuaded by some of these 
fair enthusiasts — whether by Miss Cunningham, by Mrs. Le 
Vert, or by Mrs. Ritchie (so well known and greatly admired 
in London as Mrs. Anna Cora Mowatt), or whether by these 
three graces in combination, it is difficult to say — ^but, by the 
happy thought of some insinuating fair one, he was induced 
to travel from city to city throughout the Union, and to de- 
liver his celebrated oration on the "Life and Character of 
Washington," for the benefit of the fund. By his exertions 
alone upward of £5000 sterling had at an early period of the 
year 1858 been secured toward the pui-chase of Mount Ver- 
non, and there was every probability that by these and other 
agencies the whole sum requisite Avould be obtained within 
one year, or at most two, and Washington's tomb, with a few 
acres of land adjoining, handed over to the perpetual guardian- 
ship of the ladies of America. At the commencement of their 
patriotic agitation they were incorporated for the purpose by 
solemn Act of the Legislature of the Commonwealth of Vir- 
ginia, confii'med by the still mox'C solemn fiat of the General 
Conaress of Washing-ton. 



FROM RICHMOND TO WASHINGTON. 229 

And here it will perhaps be asked why and whence the 
odium thrown upon Mr. J. A. Washington ? The charge 
made against him chiefly by the press, was, that he had asked 
too much of the ladies of America, and that he had " traffick- 
ed in the bones of his illustrious relative." But in a country 
where, above all others, 

"The value of a thing 
Is just as much as it will bring," 

and where the pursuit of wealth is cai'ried on with an eager- 
ness elsewhere unparalleled, the charge appears ungracious, 
if not unnatural. The representative of the Washingtons 
is far from wealthy ; he has a large family, principally of 
daughters ; in tlie opinion of impartial persons, he did not ask 
a cent more for the acres than they would be likely to sell for 
by private contract to any one who desired to possess them, 
and less, perhaps, than they would fetch by public sale ; and, 
moreover, the committee of the Ladies' Association have pub- 
licly declared, with their names appended to the declaration, 
that nothing could be more straightforward, manly, honest, 
and liberal than the conduct of Mr. "Washington in the whole 
course of the transaction. It is to be presumed, judging from 
the temper displayed in the discussion, that nothing would 
have satisfied the objectors to Mr. Washington except his free 
donation of the property ; and that any sura he might have 
asked would have been carped and caviled at by people de- 
termined to be displeased. Surely it was unreasonable to ex- 
pect from a man, even though he bore a great name, that he 
should have sacrificed his interests to the manes of his illus- 
trious predecessor, and done in his own person what the state 
ought to have done ? If honor were to be paid to the memo- 
ry of Washington by the purchase of his burial-place, and its 
dedication forever to the reverence of the American people, 
the central government, representing all the states of the 
Union, or even the government of the Commonwealth of Vir- 
ginia, should have drawn upon the public purse for the funds 
necessary to purchase the property. As the purchase of the 
nation, both the tribute would be greater than if it proceeded 
from the pocket of any individual, Avhether his name wove 



230 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Washington or any other less renowned. If the rich nation 
dedined to act in the matter — a nation so rich that it does 
not know what to do with the public money — why should 
Mr. Washington, who is not rich, be blamed for not taking 
upon himself a task that was not his by any natural or na- 
tional compulsion, and which, moreover, he could not under- 
take without injustice to those who were nearest and dearest 
to him, and who, if he had reduced them to penury, might have 
asked in vain for a dollar from the national bounty ? 

Under all the circumstances, it is moi'e creditable to the 
American character that the pui'chase should be effected by 
the voluntary effort of the people than by any other means. 
The ladies of America have done a noble deed in a graceful 
and gracious manner, and nobody is the poorer for it — except, 
perhaps, Miss Cunningham, Avho has well-nigh exhausted the 
energies of a frame that was never powerful by the labors con- 
sequent upon so great an organization. But her name upon 
the records on the Mount Vernon Association, and on the book 
that will, doubtless, lie upon Washington's tomb, setting forth 
how it became the property of the public, will be to her a suf- 
ficient reward. And that, at least, will be hers as long as 
America shall revere the name of Washington.* 

* In reference to this subject, the following memorandum has been 
received from Mr. Everett : 

" It is intimated that I was enlisted in the Mount Vernon cause by 
the ladies named in your letter. This is inexact. I have been most 
proud and happy to co-operate with those very estimable ladies in this 
excellent cause ; but I commenced delivering my ' Washington Lec- 
tures' at Richmond for the benefit of the Mount Vernon Fund as a 
volunteer, without the suggestion of any man or woman. I made the 
offer to do so before I had made the acquaintance of Miss Cunningham 
or Mrs. Ritchie, and without any previous communication on the sub- 
ject with either of them, or any other human being." 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVEBY. 231 



CHAPTEE XXVIII. 

THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 

Washington, Marcli 25, 1859. 
No traveler in the United States, who desires to record his 
free, unbiased opinions, can give the go-by to the question of 
slavery. That question has long been a sore in the bosom of 
the Great Republic, but has not pi-essed at any time for im- 
mediate solution. It has been a difficult and complicated, as 
well as an exasperating sulyect. It has been the battle-ground 
of parties — the touchstone of political life — the theme of the 
senate, the platform, the pulpit, and the press ; but it has in- 
volved too many personal and national interests, and been of 
too vital an importance to the integrity of the Union to be 
driven even by the most zealous friends of negro freedom to 
such a point as to force a deliverance. If, on the one hand, 
there were slavery to be abolished, there was, upon the other, 
.the union of the thirty-two republics which lend a star each 
to the banner of the states to be maintained inviolate. Many 
abolitionists have been prepared for the fiat jusiitia, but not 
for the ruat ccelum ; and the few able and earnest men who 
have avowed themselves ready to confront all consequences, 
however ominous or fatal, have been in such a minority as to 
render their action hopeless for tlie present, and to adjourn it 
into the indefinite future, where all hopes grow, and where all 
theories gradually transform themselves into facts. 

In the District of Columbia slavery is not offensive in its 
outward manifestations ; and Washington contains a large 
number of free negroes. But the ftict that slavery is permit- 
ted to exist within the district is made a particular grievance 
by the abolitionists of the free North. " You have slavery in 
you own states," they say to the people of the slave-holding 
South, " and, unfortunately, we have not the power to inter- 
fei'e with you; but we know of no right that you have to in- 



232 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

troduce the objectionable and criminal system into Columbia 
and the City of AVashington, Avhich belong to the whole Union, 
and not to the South, and to us quite as much as to you." 
The South has replied by insisting on as much right to main- 
tain slavery as the North has to abolish it ; that possession is 
nine points of the law, and that, being in possession, they are 
determined to remain so. Several attempts have been made 
by the abolition party to carry a laAv through Congress to free 
the national capital and its small surrounding district from the 
" domestic institution" of the South, but hitherto in vain. 
The fact, howevei', suggests the opportunity to say a few words 
on the social and political aspects of this great question, not 
simply as afTccting the national metropolis, but as affecting 
both the Avhite and the black races in every part of the Union. 
It was intended by the original framers of the Declaration 
of Independence that all the United States should be free. 
Wiser at this time than the monarchy, whose j-oke they so gal- 
lantly threw off, they thought to repudiate slavery, and all 
that appertained to it. It was their Avish to set an example 
to the Avorld. They desired to proclaim that " a man was a 
man for a' that," and that the accident of his color made no 
difference in his rights or his responsibilities. But a timid 
and unwise conservatism, even at this early stage of American 
history, was permitted to prevail, and because slavery teas, it 
was allowed to be. At a later period, the parent monarchy, 
impelled by the irresistible impetus communicated to its ac- 
tions by the people, abolished slavery in all its forms and 
phases. The republic profiting, or fancying that it profited, 
by the evil thing, and not only tolerating, but loving it, be- 
cause it was established, refused to follow the noble example. 
Thus it sowed dragons' teeth over more than half of the fair- 
est dominion that ever in all recorded history fell to the lot of 
an energetic and intelligent race. The result is what avc now 
see, and what all the friends of human liberty deplore. The 
dragons' teeth have gi'own vip into giants. Frankenstein has 
made his monster, and the monster puts poison into the cup 
of prosperity, and keeps his master in constant terror of a day 
of retribution. Slavery, that might have been easily eradi- 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 233 

cated half a century ago, has assumed such formidable dimen- 
sions tluit it is hard to say wliich is the more dilUcult thing 
to do — to put up with it, or to uboHsh it ; and which course is 
fraught with the most danger — to give the slaves tlicir free- 
dom, or to allow them to increase and multiply in bondage. 
But the history of such model states as Massachusetts — one 
of the most I'cspectablc and wise communities in the world — 
and, indeed, of all the New England States, together with New 
York and Pennsylvania, and the commonwealths of the West, 
Avhich are gradually spreading themselves to the bases of the 
Rocky Mountains, is a proof not only of the far-sighted phi- 
lanthropy, but of the worldly -w-isdom of the men who, at the 
earliest period of American history, w^ashed their hands of the 
shame and guilt of slavery. The free states are not only the 
most populous, the most Avealthy, and the most energetic in 
the Union ; but by the activity of their intellect, the exuber- 
ance of their literature, and the general vigor — public and so- 
cial, as well as private and commercial — of their citizens, they 
give the law and the tone to the whole of the Union. JMassa- 
chusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecti- 
cut, and Maine — small in extent, and, with the exception of 
Maine, as fniely cultivated and almost as densely peopled as 
that Old England from whose shores their early foundcx's emi- 
grated, in disgust with the political and religious tyranny of 
their time — are the great hives that supply the fruitful and all 
but illimitable West. 

The emigration from Ireland, from Germany, and from Nor- 
way, great as it is, Avould not keep the great West in health- 
ful and progressive motion, were it not for the Yankees of 
New England. It is these Avho drift off from their parent es- 
tablishments in these elderly states — for Massachusetts, as a 
commonwealth, is older than many European kingdoms, and 
not much more juvenile than Prussia — and who found mills, 
banks, stores, newspapers, churches, chapels, and universities 
in the wildernesses of the Upper Mississippi and INIissouri. 
Every now and then, Avhen their numbers have sufficiently in- 
creased by European and other innnigration, they " thunder 
at the gates of the capital," and claim admission for the new 



234 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

territory •which they have wrested from desolation or from 
the Indians as :i sovereign stnte and component part of the 
greatest oonledoralion in the world. The non-existence of 
slavery within their bonnds is one of the causes of their un- 
paralleled growth and prosperity. The poor Avhite man — the 
ragged, half-starved Irishman — with nothing to offer in ex- 
change for his food, lodging, and raiment but the unskilled la- 
bor of his brawny arms ; the frugal German and Norwegian, 
desirous to gain a few dollars by hai'd manual labor, and to 
invest the results in the purchase of an acre or two of the vir- 
gin earth — will not settle in large numbers in the slavehold- 
ing states. In the South they would enter into competition 
with the slave, and the slave, as far as mere labor goes, is 
master of the position. In the ruder operations of the tield 
and plantation, where no particular intelligence is required, 
and where a horse is almost as good a laborer as a man, he is 
cheaper than the white race; and the white man, with higher 
aspirations than to be always a hewer of wood and a draAver 
of water, naturally betakes himself to regions where negro la- 
bor does not come into competition witli his own, and where 
he will not be kept by capitalists, either of land or money, at 
a lower level than he believes to be his by right of his superior 
mind. 

The free states are progressive, and, to use the regular 
Yankee word, "•go-a-head-ative." They see Ihr before thorn. 
They do not stand continually upon the ancient ways. Like 
Englishmen and Scotchmen, with whom they have many 
points of resemblance, they arc " look-a-head-ative" as well as 
" go-a-head-ative," if I may imitate themselves so far as to 
coin an ugly but expressive word for the occasion ; and, see- 
ing that the wliole continent requires to be settled and cut up 
into commonwealths ; thinking little of distance and of time, 
and scarcely considei-ing either as impediments to any work 
which they may luidcrtake, or to any design on the accom- 
plishment of which they have set their liearts ; kncnving no 
superiors to themselves, politically or socially, and being tired 
with the ambition not simply to become rich, but to be emi- 
nent and powerful, they inanufacture states for the Union as 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 235 

■well as fortunes foi' themselves. They give their names to 
towns, cities, and eountios, and do, in this advanced age of the 
Avorld, and by a dill'erent process, "what the early Saxons and 
Danes did twelve hundred years ago for the British Isles. The 
{leoplc of the free states have an immense work yet before 
them. Maine is the only one of the six New England States 
that exists to any considerable extent in the condition of the 
primeval wilderness. The other five are finished. Their 
roads arc made, the tree-stumps have been long ago removed, 
the Original forest has disappeared, except where it has been 
allowed to remain, here and there, in small patches, for its 
beauty and amenity. The log hut is not often to be seen ; 
but the neat, elegant, comfortable white house, the church, the 
chapel, the bank, are every where to be met Avith. There is 
no trace of squalor or of misery, but over the whole land there 
is an air of refinement and of high civilization. But the other 
free states have not yet arrived at the same high culture. 
Large portions of the " Empire State" of New York arc still 
in a state of nature, and, though the Red Man has long ago 
disappeared, the bear and the wolf arc in possession of districts 
not a day's journey by rail from the mighty city of Manhat- 
tan, and almost within sound of the paddle of the monster 
steam-boats that ply upon the Hudson. With capabilities of 
soil and climate, and with natural resources more than suffi- 
cient to feed a population of ten or twelve millions, the State 
of New York, though constantly invaded by the Saxon, Celtic, 
and Scandinavian immigration, has a resident population of 
less than four and a half millions. Though the most i)opulous 
state in the Union, and absolutely much richer, both in wealth 
and in men, than England was in the days when Henry VIII. 
first began to make England a power in the world, and almost 
as populous as when Cromwell first made his country to be 
feared and respected throughout Europe, still, New York is 
but half peopled. Pennsylvania, another large and flourishing 
commonwealth, with agricultural and mineral Avealth all but 
inexhaustible in its soil, is not more populous than Scotland ; 
and Ohio, one of the noblest of all the free states, and able to 
support as large a population as England, numbers upon its 



236 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

fruitful bosom little more than two millions of people, or a 
million less than London and its circumjacent boroughs. 

Indiana — which an intelligent old Scotchman, Avho had cul- 
tivated his fann in it for upward of ten years, declared to me, 
Avith an expression of sorrow in his rough, honest countenance, 
to be an unwholesome place for a man of northern blood to 
live in — might contain and feed the Avholc population now ex- 
isting in the United States, and be all the better for the bur- 
den, docs not number above a million and a half of people. I 
asked the Scotchman Avhat Avas his objection to Indiana? 
" Objection," he replied, Avith a strong Highland accent ; " ob- 
jection, did ye say'? There is no objection but to its OA'er- 
fruitfulness. The soil is so rich, the climate so delicious, that 
the farmer has no adequate inducement to Avork. The earth 
produces its fruits too readily. The original curse presses too 
lightly. Tjie SAveat of a man's broAv is to be read of, but not 
to be experienced here ; and the \xiy air is balmy and sleepy. 
Idleness is the afflict ion that Ave have to struggle against ; and 
idleness leads to drinking, and to quarrelsomeness, and all 
other evil. Satan is to be fought Avith hard Avork, and that 
Avill conquer him better than preaching. Na, na," he added, 
shaking his head, " if I had my life to live over again, and 
know Avhat I knoAv noAA^, lAvould settle in a ruder soil and in 
a colder climate. ]Men Avhose ancestors arc from the cold 
North — the Avholesome North, I say — recpiire frost to bring 
out their virtues, lleat is fatal to the true Scotchman, and, 
for that matter, to the true Englishman also. ]Men of our 
blood thrive upon difficulties. We groAv rich and fat upon 
toil and obstruction ; but here, in Indiana, Illinois, and aAvay 
to the "West as far as you can go, man gains his bread too 
easily to remain A'irtuous. This is a matter," he continued, 
"Avhich people do not sufficiently consider. The Southern 
and IMiddle States Avill in time deteriorate for these reasons, 
but the North — the North — tJiat Avill be the country. And 
as for Canada, no one can describe, Avithout being accused of 
extravagance, the greatness and the glory of AA-hich it may 
be made capable." In this respect, if my Highland friend Avas 
right — Avhich I Urmly believe he Avas — Wisconsin, IoA?v'a, Kan- 



SOCIAL AND rOLlTIOAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 237 

sas, and the lai'ge territories of Nebraska, Oregon, and Colum- 
bia, large enough to be made into lifty commonwealths of the 
extent of Massachusetts, may share with Canada the advan- 
tages of a climate that makes men hardy, enterprising, and 
strong. It certainly seems to have been of some eilbct in 
stimulating the energies of the "Yankees," and in making 
them, all things considered, the sharpest, smartest, and most 
eminent people in the Union — a people little loved, perhaps, 
but very much respected. 

In the Southern States, partly, perhaps, from the inlluenco 
of the climate, but more probably in a still greater degree from 
the operation of slavery upon the life, character, and feeling 
of the "whites, thei'c is nothing like the same social, conuner- 
cial, and literary energy that exists in the North. The con- 
trast between these two sections of the Union is in this respect 
most remarkable. Between Massachusetts and South Caro- 
lina, between Vermont and Arkansas, between Connecticut and 
Alabama, there exists almost as great a difi'ei'cncc in every 
thing, except language and the style of dress and architecture, 
as there does between Scotland and Portugal, England and 
Naples, Wales and the Ionian Islands. The cities in the free 
" Far West" double, treble, and quadruple their population in 
twenty, sometimes in ten years. The cities of the slave states, 
and the slave states themselves, either remain stationary or 
increase disproportionately. In the free states all is bustle 
and activity ; in the slave states there is elegant and drowsy 
stagnation. The railways in the North are well conducted. 
Populous towns, villages, and manufactories swarm and glitter 
along the line ; but in the South the railways are for the most 
jiart ill-served and ill-regulated. The land is imperfectly cul- 
tivated, and the primeval forest is more extensive than the 
farms and plantations. The great rivers Missouri and INIissis- 
sippi run for nearly two thousand miles through a compara- 
tive Avildcrness ; the reclaimed land on either side occupies 
but a very narrow belt and border of the illimitable dominion 
that man has yet to rescue from the wild animals, and from 
the super-exuberant forest and the deadly swamp. Even in 
Virginia, ancient enough to have been called by the same 



238 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

name when llie empire now known as Russia was called Mus- 
covy, and whence the swamp and the wilderness have long 
since disappeared, there is an air of non-progressiveness, if not 
decay and desolation. 

The traveler from New England and the other free states 
no sooner j-jcnetrates into the slave-land than he sees all 
around him the proofs that slaveiy is omnipresent ; not in the 
mere appearance of negroes at every turn and in all places, 
for they are to be found every where in America, but in the 
slovenly cultivation, the want of drainage, the absence of 
towns and villages in the rural districts, and the paucity of 
population even in the largest cities. Competition — the very 
soul of progress — is scarcely to be found. Where it exists at 
all it is only among the retail tradesmen. Thought is not 
free. You may talk of the dissolution of the Union as desira- 
ble and probable, abuse the president and his ministers, speak 
ill of Congress collectively and individually, be profane or im- 
moral in your speech or life, but you must not say a word 
against the sanctity of the " Domestic Institution." Rome 
itself, with its Index Expurgatorius, does not act with an effect 
more blighting and deadly upon intellectual activity than the 
South does when it foi'bids the expression of opinion on this 
subject. No doubt it would be dangerous to allow of free 
discussion ; as dangerous as it would be in Rome to allow 
Protestant divines to dispute publicly with priests and cardi- 
nals on the vital truths of Christianity, or the comparative 
merits of Luther and Pope Hildebrand. Slavery being an ad- 
mitted fact and an established institution, it is not to be sup- 
posed that those who are educated in the belief that they profit 
by it can do otherwise than forbid, within their own jurisdic- 
tion, the calling of it in question, either by zealous and malig- 
nant philanthropists among themselves, or by interlopers from 
New or Old England, but the fact remains that thought is not 
free. Consequently, the wings of the Angel of Knowledge 
are clipped, so that he can not soar into the empyrean or sit 
upon the clouds. Literature, which can not attain its full 
development under any system of restriction or impediment 
whatsoever, whether it be theological, political, or social, at- 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 239 

tains but a stunted and Imperfect growth. It loses its most 
generous inspii'ation, the sense of absolute liberty. It be- 
comes conventional instead of natural. It "gives up to party 
what was meant for mankind ;" and, as a necessary conse- 
quence of its thraldom, finds it impossible to compete with 
the universal literature which knows no such restrictions, and 
appeals to the wider audience of all humanity. The slave 
states have produced some excellent lawyers, some admirable 
orators, and some consummate politicians and statesmen, but 
they have produced no gi'cat poet, no great novelist, no great 
historian, no great philosopher or metaphysician ; nay, as far 
as my knowledge extends, they have not brought forth even 
one great or eminent preacher. They have produced a few 
pleasant and fanciful rhymers and versifiers, both male and 
female, and one or two novelists and essayists of some ability, 
but no Avriter in any walk or department of literature whom 
the most adulatoiy partisanship or local preference can con- 
scientiously compare with such names as Bryant, LongfelloAv, 
Whittier, Holmes, and Lowell in poetry ; such historians as 
Prescott, Bancroft, and Motley ; such novelists as Washington 
Irving and Plawthorne ; or such a philosopher as Emerson — 
all of whom are Northern, and the greater number New En- 
gland men or Yankees. The leading spirits in the slave states 
are aware of the deficiency without being aware of the cause, 
and can not as yet see that there are many things which can 
be obtained without liberty ; but that a great, and wholesome, 
and fructifying literature, which can speak trumjiet-tongued 
to all mankind, and move the univei'sal heart of nations, is 
not among the number. 

One characteristic of both the slave states and the free, 
which has been partially noticed by all travelers, though few, 
if any, have attempted to account for it on philosophical prin- 
ciples, is the intensely aristocratic sentiment, or, it may be 
called, instinct of the native-born Americans, of the Anglo- 
Saxon, and generally of the white race. It was the eminent 
statesman and orator, John C. Calhoun, who first enunciated 
the dogma, which has, since his time, been openly accepted 
by the whole South, and more tacitly and partially by the 



2-J:0 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

North, that there is not such a thing as a democratic repub- 
lic ; that there never was such a thing in ancient or modern 
times ; and that there must, of necessity, be an aristocracy of 
some kind or other to keep the frame-work of society together, 
under a form of government so delicate and so complicated as 
a republic. That there may be a monarchy and a despotism 
without an aristocracy is proved by Asiatic as well as by Eu- 
ropean experience ; and we need not travel forty miles east- 
ward from the English coast to find a striking proof of it ; 
but ]Mr. Calhoun held a strictly democratic republic to be im- 
possible, and appealed to Greece and Eome, to Venice and 
Genoa, for corroboration. He declared that the only possible 
aristocracy in the United States Avas the aristocracy of color 
and race. He may, to some extent, have undervalued or ig- 
nored the aristocracy of wealth and genius, which always, in 
every sooiet}', whatever may be its form of government, assert 
and maintain their own claims to prc-eminency ; but there 
can be no doubt that, as regards the aristocracy of color, 
avowed or unavowed, he was perfectly right in the fact. As 
regards the political conclusions which he drew from it, opin- 
ions will probably dilfer. The North, which Avill not tolerate 
slavery, shows its participation in this aristocratic notion by 
refusing to tolerate the social equality of the " nigger." "We 
shall not make the black man a slave ; we shall not buy him 
or sell him ; but we shall not associate with him. He shall 
be free to live, and to thrive if he can, and to pay taxes and 
perform duties ; but he shall not be free to dine and drink at 
om- board — to share with us the deliberations of the jury-box 
— to sit upon the seat of judgment, however capable he may 
be — to plead in our courts — to represent us in the Legislature 
— to attend us at the bod of sickness and pain — to mingle 
■with us in the concert-room, the lecture-room, the theatre, or 
the church, or to marry Avith our daughters. "We are of an- 
other race, and he is inferior. Let him know his place, and 
keep it." This is the prevalent feeling, if not the language 
of the free North. A negro must not ride in the public om- 
nibuses nor in the railway cars ; he must not, hoAvever 
Avcalthy, sit in the boxes or in the pit of a theatre ; and if he 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 241 

desires to go to church, he must worship "with those of his 
own color, and not presume to taint the atmosphere of the 
pure whites by the odors that exlialc from his impurcr epider- 
mis. The whites in the North object to a negro not alone for 
moral and political, but for physical reasons. They state that 
he smells, and that it is almost as offensive to come near him 
as it would be to fondle a skunk. The words of a pretended 
hymn — made for the negroes, but not by one of them, al- 
though it is sometimes asserted that the author had a dark 
skin — ai'c often quoted to those who are incredulous as to the 
odors tliat exhale from the black man : 

" De Lord He lub dc nigger well, 
He know de nigger by dc smell ; 
And when dc nigger children cry, 
De Lord He gib 'em 'iiossum pie." 

I attended a negro church, and heard a negi'o preacher at 
Richmond, in Virginia ; and, though I have as sensitive a nose 
as most people, and a more sensitive one than many, I was 
quite unconscious of any unpleasant effluvium, or of any cfllu- 
vium at all, proceeding from the persons of the seven or eight 
hundred black men and women there assembled to worship 
their Creator. I mentioned the fact to the Virginian gentle- 
man who accompanied me. lie replied that it was quite true 
that there was at that time no smell, " but then," said he, 
" the month is IMaroh. In June or July the odor would be 
perfectly intolerable, and I, for one, should not have ventured 
to have done myself the honor of accompanying you." But, 
whatever may be the fact as to the physical discomfort said to 
be produced by the odors of the black men on the olfaotor}-- 
nerves of the whites, it is evident that in the South, where, if 
any where, this peculiar unpleasantness would be more likely 
to be offensively demonstrative than in colder climates, there 
is no such repugnance to the persons of the black population 
as there is in the North. In the South, the slave-ownor not 
only cohabits Avith the more youthful and beautiful of his fe- 
male slaves, but seems to have no objection whatever to the 
close proximity of any negro, young or old, male or female ; 
though the Northern men, who talk so much of liberty, and 

L 



242 LIFE -AJS'l) LIBERTY IN AISIEKICA. 

of the political equality of all men, turn up tlicir scornful noses 
at the slightest possibility of contact with an African. Negro 
■women arc not only the favorite and most fondly-trusted nurses 
of white children, but often, and, indeed, generally, entertain 
for the infants of their masters and mistresses, whom they 
have reared and tcnde<.l in their helplessness, a life-long and 
most devoted aftection. They inspire the same feelings in the 
bosoms of their young cluirges. lilack women nurse the little 
white girl in her babyhood — wash her, dress her, and adorn 
her — take her to school in her gii'lhood — and share in all the 
joys and sorrows of her youth. They arc, besides, the hon- 
ored, though humble confidants of their wedded life and ma- 
turity, and would scorn to accept of a freedom that would sep- 
arate them from the objects of this disinterested and ungrudg- 
ing aftection. In the South, the negro may ride in the omni- 
bus without oftcnse ; his proximity to the white creates nei- 
ther alarm nor disgust ; and the faithful slave, looked upon as 
a friend, receives the familiar and affectionate title of '• uncle" 
or "aunt,"' as sex may dictate. If the master or mistress be 
young, and the "uncle" or "aunt" old, the negroes exercise 
the right of advice, authority, and control in every thing that 
relates to personal comfort and domestic ease ; and the supe- 
rior race is gratified by the control, and the interest which it 
presupposes. If the Nox'thern states and the Northern people 
would only show half or a quarter as much social kindness to 
the necro as is shown in the South, the question of negro 
slavery would be deprived of one of its greatest diihculties. 
But, while Northern men talk of the political rights of the 
negro — while thej' oppress and degrade him socially, although 
they may neither buy nor sell him — their anti-slavery speeches, 
books, and resolutions savor of hypocrisy and false pretense. 
More than this, they harden the hearts of the slave-owners, 
who can see through a false pretense quite as readily as the 
Yankees, and tend to deprive the question of the abolition of 
ishivcry of the grace, the force, and the impetus that are de- 
rived from an uncomi>romlsing and thoroughly sincere con- 
viction. 

Another proof of the aristocratic feeling which pervades 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 248 

the "white democracy of the United Slulcs is the repugnance 
Avhich native-boi"n Americans ahnost universally entertain to 
domestic service. As is well known, a domestic servant of 
American birth, and without negro blood in his or her veins, 
who condescends to help the mistress or master of a household 
in making the beds, milking the cows, cooking the dinner, 
grooming the horse, or driving the carriage, is not a servant, 
but a '• help." " Help wanted," is the common heading of 
advertisements in the North, whei*e servants arc required. A 
native American of Anglo-Saxon lineage thinks himself born 
to lead and to rule, and scorns to be considered a " servant," 
or even to tolerate the name. Let negroes be servants, and, 
if not negroes, let Irishmen fill the place ; but for an Ameri- 
can, an Englishman, or a Scotchman to be a servant or a wait- 
er is derogatory. Such people consider themselves of sui)erior 
breed and blood. They are the aiistocracy of the New World ; 
and if poverty fall upon one of this class, as it may do upon 
many a noble-minded fellow, and compel him to tend sheep, 
wait in a shop, or, worse than all, to stand behind a chair at 
table, he is a help, not a servant. But the negro is not a help ; 
he is emphatically a servant. And the Irishman is seldom 
long in America before he too begins to assert the supremacy 
of his white blood, and to come out of what he considers the 
degrading ranks of " service." The negroes, both free and 
slaves, have generally a great dislike to the Irish, whom they 
were the first to call " white niggers." A very poor white 
man — such as an Irishman generally is when he arrives in 
America, and struggles hard to compete with the nogi-o for 
the lowest kinds of occupation — is looked upon with pity and 
hate by Sambo. '• A white Buckra" is the most opprobrious 
epithet that a negro can make use of; for, in his eyes, wealth, 
authority, power, and white blood should always be found to- 
gether. The Irish women fall Avillingly at first into domestic 
service, but the public opinion around them soon indoctrin- 
ates them with the aristocratic idea that black men and Avom- 
en are the only proper servants ; that white men ought to 
trade and cultivate farms, and that white women are their 
proper helpmates, and should scorn to serve, save in their 



2-i4 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

OAvn housoholds, and in behalf of their own husbands and 
children. 

But to return to slavery, which is, in reality, far more of a 
white man's than of a black man's question, and of which the 
aristocratic tendency, as regards the white, is but one feather 
out of the multifarious plumage of the subject — it is well to 
consider what effect it has upon the whole policy of the United 
States among men, both of the North and South, who care no 
more for the negro, as a negro, than they do for their horse or 
cow, but who use him, or abuse him, as suits the higher polit- 
ical purpose which swaj-s their actions. And here we come 
to the very core of the political differences which separate the 
free from the slave states of the Union. These differences are 
many and serious, and are, besides, embarrassed and exasper- 
ated by numerous complications of interest and policy quite 
imconnected with slavery. Free America is ultra-protection- 
ist, and Slave America is strongly in favor of the widest free- 
dom of trade. The free states are alarmed at the increase of 
British manufactures, Avhile the slave states arc not only not 
alarmed, but gratified, and desire to profit by British industr}'' 
to the fullest possible extent, in the cheaper.ing of clothes for 
themselves and their slaves, and of all articles of domestic use 
and luxury, which Great Britain can furnish better and more 
cheaply than the manufacturers of the North. But this is the 
least of their differences. The unfortunate provision in the 
Constitution which allows a slaveholder to possess votes for 
the House of Representatives — not one vote simply in his in- 
di-\idual right as a free white man, but several votes in pro- 
portion to the number of the black population — makes a 
Southern white of more integral political importance than the 
Northern. He is a heavier weight in the political scale, and, 
individually, is of more power and consequence than any or- 
dinary white man can be, unless the other add to his personal 
vote the influence always derivable from eloquence and genius 
in swaying the opinions of his fellow-men. The struggle be- 
tween the North and South, of Avhich the negro is made the 
pretext, is, as all the world knows by this time, a struggle for 
political power and ascendency — for the patronage of the re- 



SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ASPECTS OF SLAVERY. 245 

public, and of the several commonwealths which compose it. 
The men of the Nox'th and of the West — whether they be the 
old and staid conservatives of such states as Massachusetts and 
Connecticut, or the hardy pioneers of Michigan, Wisconsin, 
and Kansas, or those equally hardy and more adventurous 
and far-sighted '• go-a-heads" who look to Nebraska, Oregon, 
Columbia, and even cast a longing look to the arable land of 
the Hudson's Bay Company, as the scene of their future oper- 
ations in the art and industry of state-making — may ask why 
individually, and man for man, they should be of less account 
than the slave-owners and slave-breeders of the South, who 
vote in right of their slaves, but do nothing to extend the 
boundaries of the Union, unless by aggression upon the do- 
minions of independent European and American powers? 
And this is the main difterence between the two great sec- 
tions. The Southern States desire to annex, and to increase 
the territories of the Union, but they have no means of doing 
so unless by wai", just or unjust, against Mexico and Spain, 
and the effete, ridiculous, and perishing republics of Spaniards, 
half-breeds, and quadroons, that vegetate southAvard of Mex- 
ico as for as Panama. The Northern States, on the contrary, 
in sending out their pioneers, come into contact with no Eu- 
ropean powers. The wilderness is their natural inheritance, 
and neither to them nor to their forefathers has the Eed jMan 
been an invincible or even a formidable obstruction. It has 
always been possible to deal with him Avithout domg much 
violence to the consciences of those who traded or fought with 
him. Philanthrojiy, very like misanthropy in its results, gave 
him trinkets and lire-watei', that he might " civilize himself 
off the face of the earth ;" and the Puritan or the peddler 
stepped into his broad acres, and made himself, like Alexander 
Selkirk or Robinson Crusoe, the autocrat of every circle 
bounded by the horizon. The North is compelled by nature, 
instinct, policy, and calculation to send forth its superabund- 
ant children to subdue and replenish the fruitful earth not 
otherwise preoccupied. The South has no such chances. It 
sees a territory farther south which is already subdued and 
replenished, though by an inferior race, and must either take 



2^6 LIFE AND LIBEllTY IN" AJIERICA. 

that territory, per fas ant nej'as, from its present possessors, 
or consent to be outnumbered, outweightetl, and conquered by 
its rivals for power and office at Washington. To Europeans 
it sometimes appears strange that the United States — as an 
aggregate, ah-eady sufficiently large — should have such an in- 
satiable lust of territoiy as to invade Mexican, Spanish, and 
other independent territories in this ruthless and unconscion- 
able fashion ; but, fairly and dispassionately looked upon, it 
seems as if the "manifest destiny" of Avhich they speak Averc 
no dream, but a reality. They ai'e doomed to "annex" by 
the necessities of their social politics. Like Robespierre, they 
must cut off heads or lose their own. IMexico is tempting, 
and Cuba is more tempting still ; yet the prizes are costly. 
As for the little republics carved out of the weakness of Spain, 
which lengthen and spin out their useless lives in the latitudes 
between ]\Icxico and Panama, no power on the earth, even if 
it can, will be so foolish as to interfere to prevent the inevi- 
table consummation either of their absorption into the Amer- 
ican Union, or of their annexation, in some more dependent 
form, to the great confederation. Were it not that the Consti- 
tution of the United States had made no provision for any in- 
crease except by the normal form and force of agglomeration 
and accretion, the Spanish republics or empires (for these 
moribund states change from one political condition to another 
with kaleidoscopic rapidity) would long ago have been ab- 
sorbed into the ever-gaping and yawning maw of Uncle Sam. 
And herein exists a difficulty for the Union, all consequent 
upon slavery, and the antagonism which it excites at the 
North. Foreign conquest appears to be imperative ; but, if 
it be undertaken, how will the North, which only Avars with 
the Indian, with desolation, and the wild beasts of the forest, be 
affected by a state of affairs alien to the intentions of the 
founders of the Constitution, and to the Avhole spirit of the 
most populous and energetic portion of the republic? The 
answer to the question is in the future. No one can foresee 
the ultimate pattern which the moving of the shuttles and rol- 
lers will produce, or Avhether the whole machine will not ul- 
timately break into pieces. The strength of a chain cable is 



PRO-SLAVERY rillLOSOPIlY. 247 

but the streTifith of its •weakest part. The strength of the 
Aracricau Union is the strength of shxvcry. It is tliat ques- 
tion wliieh bears the Avhole strain of the mighty ship ; and, if 
it prove strong enough, the ship may defy all other dangers, 
and ride triumpliantly upon all seas and into ;ill ports. But 
if that link be Aveak or broken, and have no supports in na- 
ture and necessity, and no links in the heart of humanity, it 
•will drop sooner or later, and then the •world will see a new 
shifting of the kaleidoscope. The focus may be symmetrical, 
but the component parts will be differently disposed ; and the 
Northern States may make one pattern, the Southern a sec- 
ond, and the Californian or Pacific sea-board a third. There 
is room enough and to spare for all of them. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

rKO-SLAVEKY PIIILOSOPnY. 



There was a time, not very remote, when the slaveholders 
of the South and their supporters, driven into a corner by the 
arguments of the abolitionists, were content to rest their case 
upon the existence of slavery as a great fact — " a cliiel that 
wadna ding" — and which it was useless to dispute. They 
agreed that j)er se slavery was wrong, and not to be defended 
upon philosophical or religious grounds ; but they insisted 
that to abolish it would be to produce far greater calamities, 
both to the slave and his master, than to permit its continu- 
ance, with such modifications as circumstances might allow. 
Virtually they gave up the controversy, and made an appeal 
ad misericord iam to the vulgar common sense of mankind, to 
the conservative feelings of man}^, who would rather submit 
to old evils than run risks of new experiments, to the general 
laziness and selfishness of the masses, who are content to en- 
dure the existence of afflictions that do not come home to 
themselves ; and tlie}'^ strengthened all these arguments in 
favor of the status quo by many economic considerations of 
trade and commerce, and the supposed necessity that lay 



248 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

upon England to nianufiicture cotton under the penalty of 
revolution, and the equally strong necessity to produce it, 
under the similar penalty of ruin, that weighed upon the 
Southei-n States of the Union. The easy politicians of the 
Aliddlc and Northern States, from Pennsylvania to Maine, 
;ind from New York to Wiscoosin, who cared a great deal 
more for the Union than for the " rights of man" — and es- 
pecially of that portion of the race which happened to have 
black skins — were quite contented to rest the existence of 
slavery upon arguments such as these ; while in favor of free- 
dom in the abstract they postponed into the indefhntc future 
all attempts to realize it. " After this generation let the 
deluge come, but let us not be disturbed in our time." Such 
was their prayer and such their policy. Imbued with these 
motives, they strengthened the " peculiar institution" which 
they affected to condemn, and allowed the black man to be a 
man theoretically, but not a man politically or socially. In 
their refusal to eat, or drink, or pray with him, or to allow 
him the civil rights which they claimed for themselves in vir- 
tue of their white skins, they treated him, in ctlect, as if he 
were only a superior kind of horse, or perhaps of monkey ; a 
docile, useful, agreeable, a'ffectionate brute ; to be kindly treat- 
ed, but still a brute ; and no more fit to serve upon a jury, to 
sit upon the bench, or to be governor of a State, than Gulliver 
was to give laws to the Houyhnhnms, or Caesar's horse to be 
a consul. 

But within the last two or three years a change has come 
over the philosophy and the tactics of the slaveholders. The 
North is weary of the "Nigger question ;" and the South, feel- 
ino" the weakness of a position dependent upon the toleration 
of its foes, has ceased to make the appeal ad misericordiam. 
Not only justifying slavery as an established fact, they have 
f^one one step lower (or an infinite number of steps lower), 
and asserted it to be a reasonable, a benevolent, and a di\ine 
institution — an institution entirely in the order of nature, and 
one far better for the slave than freedom ; better for the mas- 
ter, better for the workman and for him who profits by the 
work, and who calls himself a shopkeeper or a merchant : a 



PRO-SLAVERY PIIILOSOPIIY. 2-iD 

system that is not dependent upon the color or nice of those 
who are enslaved, but which may conduce to the advantage 
of a white slave quite as much as to that of the black. In 
one sentence they allege slavery to be the normal and only 
proper condition of society. Instead of being defendants in 
the great court of the world's opinion, tliey have assumed the 
position of plaintilFs. They have 'in trenched themselves upon 
their rights, and accuse all that portion of the European world 
which condemns slavery as being false not alone to morality 
and religion, but to the true principles of trade and to the 
philanthropy of social science. In short, the slaveholders — 
Avorried, vexed, perplexed, and exasperated — have, like a dy- 
ing stag in the wilderness, done desperate battle with their 
opponents. They have taken up a position with their backs 
to the rock, and defied all onslaught. Over any foes who 
will recognize things so totally distinct, but in tliciy minds so 
homogeneous as the authority of the Bible, the right of Labor 
and its adequate reward, the superiority of intellect to animal 
strength, and the distress and misery of European laborers, 
they claim a logical, a political, a philosophical, and a relig- 
ious triumph. They assert themselves to be students and 
neophytes no longer, but doctors of the law. They speak no 
more with bated breath, as if they were afraid of somebody, 
but bellow and thunder ex cathedra, calling upon the whole 
woi-ld to listen to a philosophy as old as history and as inde- 
structible as human society. " Slavery is no evil," they say ; 
" so far from its being a wrong, or the curse of humanity, it 
is the proper condition of the masses of mankind, and better 
than tlie freedom in which they pine and starve, and — if they 
do not go to the grave before their time — in which they breed 
revolution and war. The black man is necessarily the first 
slave, because he is the stupidest, the least valuable, and most 
easily captured ; but the white laborer with nothing to give 
to the world on whose bosom he was born but the unskilled 
labor of his brawny arms, in a slave de facto in every part of 
the earth, and Ave re he a slave de jure, would be happier 
and more comfortable than he can ever hope to be under the 
system prevalent in Europe and in the free states of America." 

r. 2 



250 LIFE AND LIBERTY IX AMERICA. 

Such is tlici tnimpct-blast blown in loiul and saucy defiance 
by the new generation of Southern writers and politicians. 
Among these, one of the ablest and most conscientious — a 
man who writes as if he believed himself to be the preacher 
and the apostle of a new science "which is to enlighten the 
darkened, and reform the corrupted world — is lSh\ George 
Fitz Hugh, of Virginia. This gentleman boldly enunciates 
the theory that free society is a failure ; and that the best, if 
not the only hope of civilization, unless it would fall the prey 
of stronger and honester barbarism, is the re-establishment of 
slavery, independently of color and race, in every part of the 
world. Although the Gospel be preached, the rails be laid, 
and locomotives run — although the electric telegraph sends 
its messages, and the printing-press is in constant activity, 
disseminating ideas — he holds his system to be fully adapted 
to such a state of circumstances. There are many other 
wz'itei-s, both in prose and verse, Avho have taken up this prin- 
ciple as the social religion of the South, but Mr. Fitz Hugh is 
the one who has gone most systematically and philosophically 
into the discussion, and laid down authoritatively a system 
of slavery pure and simple. He would not only enslave the 
negroes, but the poor Irish and German immigrants as fast 
as they arrive in New York, and either send them off to till 
the ground in the cotton and sugar regions, or sell them at 
Charleston or New Orleans by public auction to the highest 
bidder. " I^ibcrty is for the few — slavery, in every form, is 
for the many !" That is the maxim of which he attempts to 
justify the universal relevancy by history, by philosophy, by 
religion, and by the " eternal fitness of things." 

It may be thought that Mr. Fitz Hugh and the other doc- 
trinaires of slavery write in jest. On the contrary, theywi'ite 
in grim earnest, and as if they were the founders of a new or 
the restorers of an old religion. But their arguments, when 
not supported by or drawn from the Old Testament, and the 
" bondage" known among the Egyptians and the Jews, or from 
the negative support they derive fi-om the absence of an ex- 
press denunciation of slavery in the New Testament, and the 
more positive authority v/lucli they imagine they have discov- 



PllO-SLAVERY PHILOSOPHY. 251 

cved ill the book of Kevelations, "when, at the opening of the 
sixth seal, the free man and the " bond" arc to call upon the 
rocks to cover them from the wrath of the Almight}', are chief- 
ly devoted to the one point upon which they make tlic whole 
question to revolve, the superiority of the physical condition 
of the slave to that of the free laborer in Europe. The poets 
of the South attempt to sing of the happy Arcadia where the 
planter, like the patriarch of old, sits under the shadow of his 
vine, and treats his slaves as if they were the members of his 
own family, the sharers in all his gains, his faithful and atToc- 
tionate dependents, who are provided for by his care, who en- 
joy all the benefits of his prosperity, but never suffer from his 
adversit)' ; who work for the common good when they are hale 
and well, and who, when they arc old and sick, or from any 
cause xniable to work, are tended quite as aflectionately as if 
they still contributed to the common stock. Philosophers like 
Mr. Fitz Hugh, while painting the same sunny picture, and 
holding up the condition of the slave as if it were the suvimum 
homan of human bliss, dive deeper than the poets into the so- 
cial causes of the state of things of which they so highly ap- 
prove, and demonstrate, to their own satisfaction and that of 
all the South, that the few must be lords and the many slaves, 
and that the lordship on the one side and the slavery on the 
other are equally right and mutually beneficial. And from 
this peculiar point of view their arguments are sound. If the 
sole aim, end, and enjoyment of the bulk of mankind be to cat 
and drink, to be clad and housed, and to have no care for the 
morrow — no moral responsibilities — no harassing duties, that 
make them prematurely old, not so much with labor as with 
anxiety, then the condition of the slave in the Southern States 
of the American Union is superior to that of the free laborer 
in Europe. To the argument that " man shall not live by 
bread alone" — that his moral, intellectual, and religious na- 
ture — of infinitely greater importance than his merely physical 
well-being — can not only not be cultivated and developed, but 
must deteriorate in a state of slavery — these writers reply with 
scorn : " The customary theories of modern ethical philosophy, 
whether utilitarian or sentimental," savs Mr. Fitz Hnch, " are 



252 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

SO fallacious, or so false in their premises and their deductions 
as to deserve rejection, and must be replaced by others found- 
ed on a broader philosophical system and on more Christian 
principles." "The world will fall back on domestic slavery 
when all other social forms have failed and been exhausted. 
That hour may not be far off." " I treat of slavery as a posi- 
tive good, not a necessary evil." Such is the new doctrine. 

]\Ii'. Fitz Hugh draws a contrast between what he calls the 
white slave-trade and what others call the black slave-trade 
very much to the disadvantage of the former. He defines the 
Avhite slave-trade to mean the employment of white men at 
low wages, regulated rather by the keenness of their own com- 
petition with one another than by the intrinsic value of their 
labor, and their non-sustenance, as soon as they become impo- 
tent and unfit to work, by those employers who made the 
most of them when they were strong. He alleges it to be far 
more cruel than the black slave-trade, "inasmuch as it exacts 
more from the workers, and neither protects nor governs them." 
He asserts that when the abolitionists, or enemies of slavery, 
proclaim that white labor is cheaper than black, they destroy 
their own case ; and, so far from leading men of sense to give 
the blacks their freedom, they merely lead the true philan- 
thropist and the wise philosopher to govern, employ, protect, 
and enslave the whites. The whole theory is thus stated in 
the first chapter of Mr. Fitz Hugh's treatise : 

"The profits made from free lahor are the amount of the 
products of such labor which the employer, by means of the 
command which capital or skill gives him, takes away, exacts, 
or exploitates from the free laborer. 

" The profits of slave lahor are that portion of the products 
of such labor which the power of the master enables him to 
appropriate. These 2>Tofits are less, because the master alloivs the 
slave to retain a larger share of the results of his oini lahor than 
do the employers of free labor. 

"But we not only boast that the Avhite slave-trade is more 
exacting and fraudulent than black slavery, but that it is more 
cruel, in leaving the laborer to take care of himself and fam- 
ily out of the pittance which skill or capital have allowed him 



PRO-SLAVERY riilLOSOPHY. 253 

to retain. When his day's labor is ended he is free, but over- 
burdened with the cares of his family and household, which 
make his freedom an empty and delusive mockery. But his 
employer is really free, and may enjoy the profits made by 
other people's labor without a care or trouble as to their well- 
being. The negro slave is free too Avhen the labors of the 
day are over, and free in mind iis Avell as in body ; for the 
master provides food, raiment, house, fuel, and every thing 
else necessary to the physical well-being of himself and fami- 
ly. The master's labors commence when the slave's end. 
No wonder white slaveholders should prefer the slavery of 
white men and capital to negro slavery, since the white slave- 
holding is more profitable, and is free from all the cares and 
labors of black slave-holding." 

Here is the picture drawn in support of the first joart of 
the principle : "The negro slaves," says Mr. Fitz Hugh, "are 
the happiest, and, in some cases, the freest people in the 
world. The children and the aged and infirm work not at 
all, and yet have all the comforts and necessaries of life pro- 
vided for them. They enjoy liberty, because they arc not op- 
pressed either by care or labor. The women do little hard 
work, and are protected from the despotism of their husbands 
by their masters. The negro men and stout boys work on 
the average, in good weather, not more than nine h.ours a 
day ; the balance of their time is spent in perfect abandon. 
Besides this, they have their Sabbaths and holidays. White 
men, with so much of license and liberty, Vv^ould die of ennui ; 
but negroes luxuriate in corporeal and mental repose. With 
faces upturned to the sun, they can sleep at any hour, and 
quiet sleep is the greatest of human enjoyments." 

This is the picture drawn in support of the second: "The 
free laborer must work or starve. He is more of a slave than 
the negro, because he works longer and harder for less al- 
lowance than the slave, and has no holidays, because with 
him the cares of life begin when its labors end. He has no 
liberty, and not a single right. AVe know it is often said that 
air and water are common property, in which all have equal 
right to participate and enjoy. But this is utterly false. 



254 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Tlic appropriation of tlic lands carries Avith it the appropria- 
tion of all on or above the lands, usque ad ccvlum, aut ad infe- 
ros. A man can not breathe the air without a place to 
breathe it from, and all places arc appropriated. All water 
is private property * to the middle of the stream,' except the 
ocean, and that is not iit to drink. 

" Free laborers have not a thousandth part of the rights 
and liberties of negro slaves. Indeed, they have not a single 
right or liberty except the right or liberty to die. 

"Where a few own the soil, they have unlimited poAver 
over the balance of society initil domestic slavery comes in to 
compel them to permit this balance of society to draw a suffi- 
cient and comfortable living from terra mater. 

" Free society asserts the right of a few men to the earth. 
Slavery maintains that it belongs in diftcrent degrees to all. 

" The slave-trade is the only trade worth following ; slaves 
the only property worth owning. All other is worthless, a 
mere capid mortimm, except in so far as it vests the owner 
Avith the power to command the labor of others ; in other 
words, to enslave them. Give you a palace — ten thousand 
acres of land, and you arc jioorer than Kobinson Crusoe if 
you have no slaves — cither to capital or domestic slaves. 
Your capital will not bring 3'ou an income of a cent, nor sup- 
ply one of your wants Avithout labor. Labor is indispensable 
to give value to property. If you owned every thing else, 
and did not own labor, you would be poor. But fifty thou- 
sand dollars mean, and are, fifty thousand dollars' worth of 
slaves. You can command, without touching on that capital, 
three thousand dollars' worth of labor per annum. You 
could do no more were you to buy slaves with it, and then 
you Avould be cumbered with the cares of governing and pro- 
viding for them. You are a slaveholder now to the extent 
of fift)' thousand dollars, Avith all the advantages, and none 
of the disad\'antages and responsibilities of a master. 

" Property in man is Avhat every body is struggling to ob- 
tain. AVhy should Ave not be obliged to take care of men, 
our property, as Ave do of our horses and our hounds, our cat- 
tle and our sheep ? Noav, under the delusive name of liberty. 



PRO-SLAVERY PHILOSOPHY. 255 

the free laborer is wrought from morn to eve, from infancy to 
old age, and then turned out to starve." 

It will be seen from this abstract how bold the assertion, 
how weak the argument, and how great the fallacy that un- 
derlies the whole. To horse, bullock, or dog — to white man 
or to black — such reasoners apply the same rule ; for horse, 
bullock, dog, and man arc only different varieties of the work- 
er — to be all .tended and taken care of, as their natures re- 
quire — all unfit, though in ever-varying degrees, to take care 
of themselves. But, without personal disrespect to IVIr. Fitz 
Hugh, who is evidently a sincere and an accomplished man, 
or to any others who have preceded or followed him in the 
enunciation of his doctrine, may we not ask him and them to 
consider in what condition he or they would have been in at 
this moment if the principles of the philosophy they uphold 
had been acted u[)on in the case of white laborers in England, 
or Europe generally, at and subsequent to the period of the 
discovery and colonization of America ? Perhaps two out of 
three of the white population now flourishing in the South — 
the owners and rulers of the soil of the most fertile portions 
of the United States — arc the descendants of laborers — men 
of mere arms and sinews — men born to till the earth, and 
having no skill or knowledge of any other art but that of ag- 
riculture in its rudest forms. Had their progenitors been 
made slaves of then — as they ought to have been, if the the- 
ory be good for any thing — their descendants, and perhaps 
Mr. Fitz Hugh among the rest, would have been slaves also, 
and, according to his argument, far better off, physically, than 
they can hope to be under the regime of personal liberty. 
But what would have been the progress of the great continent 
of America? Who would have fon";ht with AVashincton for 
the independence of a noble nation ? Who would have cov- 
ered the land with railroads, and sent ships to every sea? 
Who would have built such cities as New York, Washington, 
Cincinnati, St. Louis, and San Francisco ? And where would 
be the great republic that, young as it is, holds up its head 
among the mightiest powers of the earth, and treats with 
them as equal to equal "? 



256 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

The basis of this philosophy — if it be not a desecration of 
the name so to apply it — is the grossest sensualism. Better be 
a sleek horse, or a corpulent pig snoozing upon a dunghill, 
than a lean man overburdened with anxiety. Such is the ul- 
timate element into which all such reasoning resolves itself. 
And no doubt there is many a pig which is happier than a 
man. To suffer, and to elevate ourselves by suffering, is our 
great privilege as human beings. To endure and to grow is 
in the essence of the immortal mind. Were it not so, the gra- 
dations of happiness would extend downwai'd, and not upward. 
The happy pig would be less happy than the oyster ; and the 
oyster itself would be a miserable creature compared with the 
monad, and still more miserable compai-ed with a stone. We 
should either wallow in the styes of sensualism, or take refuge 
in the Brahminical philosophy — that annihilation is supreme 
bliss. Wc should live lives of despair instead of hope, and cry 
in our blank misery, with melancholy Byron, 

" Count o'er the joJ^s thy days have seen ; 

Count o'er thine liours from anguish free ; 
And know, whatever tliou hast been, 
'Tis something better not to be." 

But it is not necessary to argue out to its ultimate deduc- 
tions a system like this, upon which many readers may per- 
haps be of opinion that too much has already been said. It 
was, however, necessary to saj^ thus much, to indicate, for the 
better comprehension of English readers, the new phase into 
which the slavery and anti-slavery controversy has entered. 
The friends of slavery act no longer on the defensive. They 
have outgrown their early timidity. They no more walk wa- 
rily, as if upon rotten ice, but step out boldly, as if upon the 
rock and the solid earth. 

Slaves, in a certain sense, all men are. We are slaves to 
the law of gravitation and to the la^vs of health ; slaves to 
hunger and thirst ; slaves to our passions and our affections ; 
slaves to our prejudices ; slaves too and prisoners of the earth, 
from which we can not escape under the penalty of death. We 
are slaves to capital also — as Mr. Fitz Hugh asserts — immis- 
takably slaves to it ; and the capitalist, also, is the slave of the 



f 



PEO-SLAVERY rUlT-OSOPIIY. 257 

laborer, without whom, as he says, all his capital is worthless. 
But Mr. Fitz Hugh, and all the Southern reasoners, Avho look 
upon him as the apostle of the new faith which is to end all 
controversy with those who maintain that a black man is not 
a chattel, must go far deeper into lirst principles before they 
can convince one human being, out of the narrow circle of 
Southern society, that they have .either made a discovery, or 
that their discovery is of the slightest value. The white la- 
borer is a slave, and is often a slave ill paid and ill tended, with 
none to care for him, and with nothing oftentimes but Chris- 
tian charity to depend upon for his life when he is old and sick, 
and unable to toil any more ; but he had this consolation in 
toiling, that no man could come to his cottage or his hovel, and 
take away the wife of his bosom, and sell her into bondage in 
a strange land ; that none could take his children forcibly 
away, so that he might see them no more ; and that none could 
lay hands upon himself, and make him toil upon the land, when 
he preferred to toil upon the water, or treat him with the same 
unconcern as a dog or a horse. Any one powerful enough to 
carry ofFMr. Fitz Hugh and sell him into bondage, might ap- 
ply to him the arguments he uses to negroes and to white 
slaves ; and if he remonstrated, say to him, " Foolish fellow ! 
why do you complain ? You shall not labor more than nine 
hours a day. You shall have Sundays and holidays. You 
shall have the comforts and necessaries of life. When you are 
sick, you shall be tended. When you are old, you shall be 
taken care of. Go away ! Do your Avork, and be happy. 
When you have done it, make your mind easy, and sleep ; for 
sleep is the greatest of all blessings. And pity me, your un- 
fortunate master, who am compelled to take care of you, to 
think for you, and to protect you." If such arguments are 
good for black men and white men alike, why not for white 
philosophers ? 

Are not a crust and a draught of water in the pure fresh 
air, Avith liberty of locomotion and the privilege of looking at 
the sunshine, better than turtle soup and choice Avines in a 
dark dungeon "? Let the advocates of the noAV faith decide. 
But Mr. Fitz Hugh is a slave already — a slave to his theory. 



258 LIFE AND LlBEBTr IN AMEllICA. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

DECLINE OF THE- SPANISH RACE IN AMERICA. 

Washington, March, 1858. 
As Greece Avas to Persia, and as Rome was to Carthage in 
ancient days — as England was to France Avithin the memory 
of living men — so are the United States to the Spanish races 
on the North American continent, and more especially to the 
Mexicans. There is deadly and traditional enmity between 
them, and a growing conviction on the part of the Anglo-Sax- 
on race, strengthened by prejudice, by passion, by interest, and 
by a vague and nameless, but powerful antipathy, that, sooner 
or later, JNIexico must be invaded, conquered, and annexed. 
And not only ]Mexico, but the Avhole continent as for south as 
Panama, is doomed in the popular mind to a gi'adual incorpo- 
ration into the great republic. The star-spangled banner has 
now but thirty-two stars to glitter on its folds, or one for each 
state ; but, should that day ever arrive, it will have to place 
at least one hundred and fifty stars upon it, or adopt a new 
symbolism for a power so magnificent. Nor is this a mei-e 
dream of ambition confined to the wax*m South and the teem- 
ing fancy of Southern politicians, Avho, by the supposed neces- 
sities of the institution of slavery, imagine that, as they can 
not extend to the great AYest, or keep pace Avith the groAvth 
of the free states by any other means, they must perforce an- 
nex Cuba, and the vast, ill-governed, miserable, but beautiful 
and fertile regions lying betAvcen the frontiers of Texas and the 
two oceans that all but mingle at Panama. The feeling is 
shared by many soberer men and cooler politicians, Avho de- 
plore, Avhile they assert the necessity that impels them. The}'- 
consider it the " manifest destiny" of the Saxon, Anglo-Saxon, 
and Scandinavian race — for these arc but one in their origin 
— to drive out the degenerate Spaniards, and descendants of 
Spaniards, Avho are about as unfit to develop the country as 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH HACE IN AISIEKICA. 259 

the Red Indians, and iittcrl}- unable to establish any thing like 
a, free or a lirm govennncnt. And every year, things, instead 
of mending, become worse. The Spaniards intermarry with 
Ihc Indians, and produce a mixed race, with all the vices of 
both breeds, and none of the virtues of cither. By their in- 
dolence, rapacity, and lawlessness, they come into constant col- 
lision with Yankees and other' adventurous spirits of the 
United States, who push south to trade and s])cculate, and at 
tlie least real or supposed indignity or injustice, clamor lustily 
for the interference of the government at Washington, glad of 
an occasion for quarrel, and panting for the spoils of a race 
whom they despise, and of a country which they covet. 

The last war against Mexico, which ended in the annexa- 
tion of California, was one of the most popular ever under- 
taken by any nation. 'I'hc si)irit of the whole coiuitry was 
aroused. Farmers left their farms, lawyers their desks and 
courts, tradesmen their stores, students their colleges, and 
members of Congress their seats in the Legislature, to fight 
against the Mexicans. Not only the youth, but th.e middle 
age of the Southern and some of the Northern States were in 
arms, burning for glory and for annexation. Men of fortune 
shouldered the ride, and Avent through all the hardships of the 
campaign in the capacity of private soldiers; and the number 
of volunteers was so great, that the government had to re- 
press, rather than encourage, the martial ardor of the citizens, 
and to throw every imaginable impediment in the way of their 
enthusiasm. Should there be any new cause of quarrel with 
Mexico leading to a war, the same ardor would indubitably be 
aroused, and not all the sobriety and vis inertia; of New En- 
gland, nor all the prudence of all the statesmen that the Union 
possesses, would be sulficient to cool the martial spirit, or pre- 
vent farther conquest and the annexation of at least another 
province. 

The popular favor enjoyed by General William Walker, the 
famous filibuster and invader of Nicaragua, is but one out of 
many proofs of the feeling with Avhich the people of the United 
States regard their effete Southern neighbors. This person- 
age, who is as familiar in Pennsylvania Avenue and in the 



260 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

purlieus of Congress as any public man in Washington, and 
who has just left, accompanied by his second in command, a 
General llenningsen, formerly connected in some capacity 
with the press of London, was brought to this capital in cus- 
tody of the United States marshal for having infringed the 
laws of the United States in his late attenopted invasion of 
Nicaragua. But his imprisonment was a mere sham. He 
was free to go hither and thither as he pleased ; and he Avas 
ultimately released even from that nominal captivity and sur- 
veillance without even a caution as to his future behavior. In 
fixct. Walker, though, by the law of nations, a vulgar pirate 
and outlaw, was a popidar person even in Wasliington, and in 
New Orleans and Mobile was the honored recipient of enthu- 
siastic ovations. Though his conduct was disavowed and 
condemned by the federal government, the public feeling was 
strong that it was his failure, and not the attempt itself, which 
was distasteful to men in power. " To go in and win" would 
have been admirable ; but to be foiled and beaten Avas disa- 
greeable to the government. Failure brought inconvenient 
remonstrances and remarks from foreign powers, and placed 
the executive in a false position. Walker has identified him- 
self for the time being with this particular movement ; but 
Walker is but a straAV upon the wind, and there are hundreds 
of others ready to supply his place, should fortune play hin\ 
false, and give him the pirate's death instead of the victoi''s 
laurel, and a high gibbet instead of Nicaragua. 

The present condition of Mexico, and of all the Central 
American republics, and the probable future that awaits them 
in consequence of their own tendency toward disorganization 
and the rapid increase in population, trade, and moral power 
of the United States of America, are cpiestions quite as perti- 
nent to Englishmen as to the rest of the civilized world. The 
growth of the United States is merely one of the forms of the 
development of that political and industrial civilization of 
which England Avas the birthplace, and of Avhich Englishmen 
and Scotchmen are still the leaders, and Avhich is founded 
upon the greatest personal freedom, consistent with order and 
organization, and the vmtrammeled liberty of individual en- 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH RAGE IN AMERICA. 261 

terprise. Addressing itself to the elevation of man through 
the development of his material interests, Avhich must always 
precede, to a greater or less extent, the development of a 
liigher form of civilization, Anglo- American progress is fated 
to exercise a powerful influence over the decaying communi- 
ties of Spanish America. 

Impressed with the general bearing of these truths, but 
having no means of making a personal investigation into the 
actual circumstances of ail these quasi republics and anarchies 
— as showing how far the instinctive notion of their irretriev- 
able decay which is prevalent in the United States was found- 
ed on facts — I requested Mr. Thrasher, of New York, a gen- 
tleman who passed some years in Cuba and in Mexico in a 
high official position, to put into Avriting the results of his ex- 
perience. I was favored shortly afterward with the folloAving 
resume of the subject, which, though it may happen to be tinc- 
tured with the American sympathies of the wi-iter, is none the 
less interesting from the information it conveys, and from the 
political Avarnings which may be drawn from it: 

" In taking a succinct view," says the writer, "of the polit- 
ical and social condition of the Spanish- American republics in 
North and South America — though South America is of little 
importance in the inquiry — it is necessary to keep in view the 
fact that they have constantly endeavored to imitate tlic po- 
litical example of the United States, in which they have as 
constantly failed. In this must be sought the causes of fail- 
ure — causes which may easily be found. Whenever a nation 
is constituted by the separation of itself from that of which it 
formed a part, it necessarily receives a political impulse, the 
direction of which it is apt to follow ever after. Wlien tlie 
distinct, and, to some degree, discordant liritish colonics of 
North Amci'ica severed their connection with the crown, their 
first impulse was to create a common centi-e of action. The 
result was the erection of the federal power ; and the involun- 
tary political tendency of the United States lias ever been to 
increase the influence of the federal executive and of the fed- 
eral Congress. In the Spanish colonics of America tlie re- 
ACi-se oftliis took place. Under the rule of the mother coun- 



2()2 lilFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

try, llic foi-iu of government was a thorough centralization ; 
and the okl vicerojalties of JMcxico, Fern, and Buenos Ayres, 
as well as the captain-generalcies of Guatemala, New Granada, 
Venezuela, and Chili, were divided into provinces, or intcnd- 
oncies, as they were called, nicroly for the purposes of local ad- 
ministration. In the struggles which gave birth to them as 
independent nations, the political impulse which they received 
Avas toward decentralization, and the advocacy of the princi- 
ples known in America as the doctrine of States' Kights. 
The involuntary political tendency of these countries has ever 
been to diminish the inllucncc of the central or federal gov- 
ernment. 

"Thus movements seemingly identical in their origin pro- 
duced directly opposite results ; for while in the United States 
the power of the federal govermnent to repress domestic re- 
bellion continually increased, and was never stronger than it is 
at present, that of the fedei'al power in the Spanisli-Amcrican 
States continually diminished, and was never more impotent 
to suppress revolt and rebellion than it is to-day. Other cir- 
cumstances have also contributed to the political decay of the 
Spanish-American States, among which their readiness to 
adopt the ideas of the first and last French Revolution, and 
to place the individual above the state, holding that the state 
owes him an obligation greater than he owes to the state, has 
been, perhaps, the most prominent. 

"AVhile, under such intlucnces as these, the political fabric 
in Spanish America has exhibited a constant decay, the 
changes in social organization have been equally great. Tlic 
line of separation between the discordant, unequal, and infe- 
rior races that constitute the population, and which, under 
the rule of Spain, was kept in constant view, has been de- 
stroyed, and all the old Spanish laws for the organization of 
labor have been repealed without the substitution of any thing 
in their place. Mexico may be taken as the type of the re- 
sult ; for the same thing, with slight modifications, has occur- 
red in all those countries. The political and social induce- 
ments to the white race to preserve its purity and integrity 
having been removed, it has gradually amalgamated with the 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH KACE IN AMERICA. 263 

inferior races ; unci the Ititter, possessing a numerical siii)crior- 
ity of seven milliona to one million of wliite inhabitants, has 
nearly swallowed up the white race in the course of the one 
generation that has elapsed since the era of their independ- 
ence. 

"The consequence of all these causes is, that the northern 
states of Mexico have lost nearly all their white population, 
and that the unorganized native communities arc unable to 
resist the attacks of the savage Apaches, Comanches, Semi- 
nolcs, and other Indian tribes, who are driven southward from 
their old hunting-grounds by the westward march of Anglo- 
Saxon civilization. In the beautiful province of Sonora, the 
rule of Mexico is reduced to a few towns, such as Guaymas, 
Ures, and Ilennosilla; in Chihualiua constant sallies of the 
government troops are necessary to protect the scattered ru- 
ral population ; in Durango the Indians roam, in small par- 
ties, unmolested over the whole state, and the civilized in- 
habitants have been compelled to concentrate in the cities 
and large towns for mutual protection. The grazing districts 
of Coahuila, Leon, Zacatecas, and Sinaloa are a constant prey 
to small parties of savages, who drive off the cattle, and carry 
the women and children into captivity amid their mountain 
fastnesses. 

" In the southern part of INIexico a similar state of things 
exists. General Alvarez, who, although he boasts a Spanish 
name, is a cross between the negro and the Indian, has long 
ruled the State of Guerrero with despotic sway, liut he has 
ever given a lip-obedience to the federal government, and has 
kept the Pintos, as the preponderating native race is called, 
in subjection. His own recognition of the federal govern- 
ment, and the influence of his name, have hitherto kept the 
other native races in the south to their allegiance ; but lately 
they have revolted ; and now, at the age of eighty years, he 
is engaged in a war of doubtful issue with the Indians of Chi- 
lapa and Oajaca, who are hounded on by priests and plotters, 
who refuse to recognize the present federal government of 
Mexico. The course of Alvarez in this question has pro- 
duced dissatisfaction among his own people, the Pintos, which 



264 LIFE AND LIUKllTY IN AMERICA. 

will doubtless break out into open revolt after liis death. In 
the eastern and jjeninsular state of Yueatan the savage tribes 
of the interior have reeovered possession of nearly the Avholc 
territory, and the quasi whites arc di'iven into the cities of 
Merida, Sisal, and Canii)eachy, the capital (Merida) having 
been frequently menaced by a large force of Indians. 

"Amid all this disintegration and political decay, the fed- 
eral power has grown constantly Aveaker, until its influence 
has become too powerless to reach the more distant portions 
of the republic. In the south, Alvarez has long held supreme 
power ; in Sonora, the Gandara family ruled for many yeai's, 
initil recently overthrown by Pasquiera, who likewise pays 
little heed to Congress or the President. Vidaurri, in the 
north, has annexed the State of Coahuila to that of Nuevo 
Leon, where his will is law ; and endeavored, a little more 
than a 3'ear since, to perform the same act with the State of 
Tainaulipas. In Central Mexico a more formal obedience is 
rentlercd to the federal authority, but one that is practically 
of little import ; and, amid all their party divisions, two great 
princijiles emerge. The first asserts that the national decay 
is owing to the decentralization of power, and the other that 
power is still too much centralized. The one principle tri- 
lUTiphs, and brings back Santa Anna to the Dictatorship, as 
in 1853, to be overthrown in 1855 by a plan of Ayutla, which 
installs a new Constitution in 1857, decentralizing the federal 
power still more, and placing it entirely in the hands of a sin- 
gle representative chamber, that is to sit permanently, cither 
of itself, or through a committee of one representative for 
each of the states. This, again, is immediately superseded 
by the establishment of the Dictatorship of Comonfort, which 
may be overthrown between the writing and the publication 
of these remarks. 

" Under these circumstances, the remnant of the white race 
in INIexico is seeking new blood and n reinvigoration by an 
infusion from abroad. When the army of the United States 
held Mexico, General Scott, the American commander-in- 
chief, was tendered a bonus to himself of two hundred thou- 
sand pounds if he would resign his commission and accept the 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH ItAOE JN AMERICA. 2G5 

supreme power in Mexico. At this (iiiic lie iispinMl to llie 
j)resideii(;y of the United S(at(!S, nnd \ut declined the oU'er. 
Wlien Suntii Anna returned lo power in 1853, lie drew around 
him !i hirgc number of Spanish oflicers from Cuba, but look 
with hini no troops. It is said tliat he looks iorward now (o 
an early return to Mexico, and that he will seek to (-reate sev- 
eral regiments composed entirely of Si)aniar(ls. On tin; other 
hand, Comonfort has turned his eyes toward the United States, 
and anticipated receiving aid from the nmbitious and restless 
sjjirits that abound here. The experience of the past, as 
shown in the expeditions of Lopez to Cuba, Walker to Lowiir 
California and Central Amciica,, Carvajal to J'amauliiJas, and 
Uaoussct dc lioulbon and Crabbe to S<jnora, leads to the be- 
lief that, though these have failed, they will be followed by 
others that will succeed in the future, sustained as the spirit 
of American tilibusterisni is by what is called Saxon "i)luck" 
and tenacity of purpose. 

" But let us follow the process of political disintegration 
southward. The former Republic of Central America, obey- 
ing the political imiiulsc it received at its birth, soon d(!sti"oy- 
cd the federal i)ower it had created in imitation of the United 
States, and broke up into the five independent states of Cua- 
tcmala, San Salvador, Ilondiu'as, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. 
In Guatemala, after years of successive revolutions, the Indian 
races asserted their supremacy, and elevated Cai-rera, a half- 
bred Creole cattle-driver, to supreme power. He rules some- 
thing as Monteziuna and Atahualpa may be supposed to have 
ruled, but with some of the forms of a civilized organization. 
In parts of the state the government still decrees what pro- 
portions of the land shall be sown in wheat, what in maize, 
and what in other productions of the soil. Carrcra has cen- 
tralized power in Guatemala, and peace reigns for the time. 

" In San Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua internal dis- 
cord has been the rule for many years, and in the struggle the 
white race has gradually died out or been absorbed, until now 
it docs not possess a single representative man. The native 
and mixed races have triumphed under the leadership of the 
half-breeds, Santos Guadiola, the President of Honduras, 



266 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

partakes largely of tlie Indian ; and Martinez, the new jires- 
ident of Nicaragua, is a dark mulatto. Costa Rica, having a 
larger infusion of Avhite blood, and few negroes or Indians, has 
kept the races moi-e distinct, and the rule of the whites is 
represented by the family of Mora. This state has exhibited 
less intestine disorder than any of the othei'S of Central 
America. 

" The condition of Southern America, in as far as it is occu- 
pied by the Spanish races, is equally suggestive of approaching 
change. 

" First in geographical order on the southern continent 
comes the foi'mer republic of Colombia, founded by Bolivar, 
the hero of South American independence. Before his death 
he was driven from power, and the state followed the political 
impulse of its creation, breaking up into the smaller republics 
of New Granada, Venezuela, and Ecuador. The first of these, 
New Granada, held until quite recently a centralized form of 
government, in which the white race, settled upon the slopes 
of the three Andean ridges that run through it, retained the 
political power. But the rule of centralization now prevails, 
and during the present year a federation of states has been 
formed on the model of the North American Union. In the 
tropical regions of the coast and the riverine provinces, the 
Sambo, or mixed race of whites, negroes, and Indians, prepon- 
derate ; l)ut in the temperate regions of Antioquia, Socorro, 
and Cundinamarca tlic white population hold political and 
social sway. Under their rule, the several revolutions that 
have been attempted by the mixed races have never succeed- 
ed, and the republic has exhibited a political stability and ma- 
terial development equaled only by that of Cliili among the 
Spanish- American nations. 

" Venezuela, whose territory consists mostly of vast trop- 
ical grazing plains, inhabited by negroes and mestizos on the 
coast, and roving white and Indian herdsmen in the interior, 
has followed a political course similar to that of Guatemala. 
The Monagas family, by ingratiating themselves with'tlic 
mixed and black population, have centralized political power 
in their own hands, and kept the country quiet for several 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH llACE IN AMERICA. 267 

years. The same struggle exists there, however, as in the 
other states ; and General Paez and many others are in exile, 
watching an opportunity for a new revolution. Ecuador, 
being one of the Spanish colonies tipon the Pacific, received 
less slave importation than the others Avhich possessed ports 
on the Caribbean Sea, and consequently has less of the negro 
element in its population. But the want of white immigra- 
tion from Europe, and the gradual absorption of this race by 
the native, are rapidly bringing the latter into power, and even 
now the communities of the interior are assimilating to the 
pure Indian. 

" Peru contains more of the negro and mixed races on the 
coast, but the whites still preserve, in a great measure, thcii" 
former political and social influence. But in the interior 
there exist many native communities that do not recognize the 
rule of the government at Lima, and who not only preserve 
the memory and the traditions of the Incas, but make con- 
tinual forays upon the settlements of the Christian native 
races. The same decentralizing tendency exists, as is seen in 
the new Constitution issued recently by the Convention at 
Lima, which body has now been three years in continual ses- 
sion. The possession of the valuable guano islands on her 
coast has given the white rulers the means of maintaining 
their sway, and at the same time afforded a constant provoca- 
tive to revolutionary attempts to get possession of the govern- 
ment. In Bolivia, Belzu succeeded for a time in becoming 
absolute master, after the manner of Monagas in Venezuela, 
and Carrera in Guatemala, supporting his power by a monop- 
oly of the valuable trade in quina, or Peruvian bark. A rev- 
olution is now raging there — the attempt being made to place 
Linares in power instead of Cordova, a relative of Belzu, who 
is president. 

'' Chili lies in a more temperate zone than the tropical 
countries we have just reviewed, and has received less of the 
negro element from the slave importation than other Spanish 
colonies. Besides this, the Araucanian Indians of the south 
have always maintained their independence and a hostile atti- 
tude toward the whites. Chili, for a variety of reasons, has 



268 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 

exhibited more muleriixl progress and intellectual development 
than perhaps any other of the Spanish- American republics. 

" The old viceroyalty of Buenos Ayres, so long the scene of 
the despotisms of Kosas and Dr. Francia, presents nearly the 
same political and social features as the restof Spanish America. 
Lopez has succeeded Francia in Paraguay, and Urquiza "wields 
a portion of the power that Kosas held in Buenos Ayres ; 
but the political tendency there is also toward decentraliza- 
tion, and the Argentine Confederation is the result. The 
Guachos of the Pampas have a large portion of the Indian, 
with something of the negro blood in them, and entertain the 
greatest dread of the savage tribes on the southern, western, 
and northwestern frontiers. A line of forts has been erected 
to protect them, and travelers across that portion of the con- 
tinent to Chili still pursue the path opened by the Spaniai'ds 
more than a century ago. So great is the fear of the mixed 
races, that the inhabitants of the northwestern provinces, near 
the eastern slopes of the Andes, have never dared to descend 
the water-courses of the Bermejo, Salado, and other large riv- 
ers until the present year. The expedition of the United 
States' steamer Wate?' Witch, under Captain Page, two years 
ago, to examine these rivers, has stimulated the desire for flu- 
vial navigation, and some foreign houses are sending small 
steamers up the Bermejo and Salado. General Taboada is at 
this moment receiving great praise in the Argentine Confed- 
eration for having dared to cross the wilderness with a party 
of one hundred men, to meet the steamer on one of the 
rivers. 

" I have endeavored to present only a succinct view of the 
political and social retrogression of Spanish America, witliout 
touching some other questions of great importance that are 
being developed there. I can not, however, refrain from men- 
tioning one prominent foct to be observed in all these coun- 
tries, and that is the decay of the Roman Catholic Church. 
Every where in Spanish America the temporal organization 
of the Church is a point of attack. A spirit of rationalism, 
somewhat of the French and somewhat of the German school, 
is pervading the more intelligent portion of the rising genera- 



DECLINE OF THE SPANISH KACE IN AMERICA, 269 

tion, while the more ignorant are relapsing into uncouth re- 
ligious practices that savor of paganism. 

" Under the operation of political, social, and religious de- 
cay, the immutable law of races plays its part in the great 
drama. The race which largely preponderates in number 
swallows up the others, and thus the aboriginals of Spanish 
America are reassuming their ancient sway. This fact is 
giving rise to movements in America for which there is no 
parallel in Europe. There moribund civilization is seeking 
for support by an infusion of new vigor through white immi- 
gration, and assistance from Europe and Northern America. 
In the Argentine Confederation an active immigration from 
Spain and other portions of Southern Europe is already estab- 
lished, and the distance of those countries from the United 
States will no doubt protect them from the Saxon overflow 
from North America, and will possibly enable the renewed 
European element to work out the problem of its future Avith- 
out interference. Whether it possesses the requisite qualifi- 
cations to insure success I shall not stop to examine. But 
Mexico and Central America lie too near the busy, enter- 
prising, and ambitious elements that swarm in the United 
States to justify the opinion that they will be left to die 
quietly. Already the paths of American intercourse between 
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans are laid in many places across 
the territories of those republics, and the natural result that 
has followed the footstep of the Anglo-Saxon in all parts of 
the world must follow it there. The policy of the United 
States government, thus far, has been to avoid all concessions 
from those countries, except the absolute transfer of teri'itory 
from Mexico, about one half of whose former dominion is now 
incorporated in the American Union ; and the Bulwer-Clay- 
ton Convention, now existing, with Great Britain, precludes 
any farther settlement or occupancy. But, before the great 
necessities of nations, policies change and ti'eaties become in- 
operative, so that there is little doubt that, either through the 
action of the government or that of filibusterism — which some 
friends of Genei-al "Walker and General Henningsen designate 
by the more courteous appellation of ' private enterprise' — 



270 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

the disintegrating communities of Mexico and Central Amer- 
ica will receive their new life frona the Anglo-Saxons of North 
America. The manner and time of this operation who shall 
undertake to predict?" 

The Mexican pear has, since these observations were writ- 
ten, been ripening and rotting. Bi-other Jonathan need not 
pluck it, for it Avill drop into his mouth ; and then, the great- 
est of all the troubles of the Union — slavery alone excepted — 
will begin. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND. 



Baltimore, March 27, 1858. 
MarytwVND is one of the original thirteen states of the 
Union, and the most northern of the slaveholding communi- 
ties. But slavery docs not flourish upon its soil. In such a 
climate as it enjoys, white men can perform all kinds of agri- 
cultural labor with as much pleasure and impunity as in the 
British Isles. Consequently, the labor of the negi'o becomes 
unprofitable, and white men are gradually displacing the black 
from all employments except those of the waiter, the barber, 
and the coach-driver. The same state of things has resulted, 
in a greater or less degree, in Virginia, North Carolina, Ken- 
tucky, and IMissouri, where slavery, though still maintained as 
a "domestic institution," is proving itself every day to be a 
social and economic failure. These states, and more especially 
JMaryland and Virginia, having no purpose to which they can 
profitably devote slave labor, have become mere breeders of 
negroes for the rice, cotton, and sugar plantations of South 
Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Tennessee, and 
Louisiana. In states like Mainland, slavery exists in its most 
repulsive form ; for the owner, having no use for the supera- 
bundant negroes, seems to acknowledge no duties or responsi- 
bilities toward them, but breeds them as he would cattle, that 
he may sell them in the best market. Farther south, the own- 
ers of slaves, who employ them in the cultivation of the soil, 



BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND. 271 

establish what they call the " patriarchal relation," and sel- 
dom or never think of selling them, of separating families, or 
of treating them otherwise than kindly. But not so in the 
tobacco and corn growing states. As slaves are not wanted, 
and are a burden to maintain, the owners have little compunc- 
tion in selling the wife without the husband, or both Avithout the 
cliildren, according to the capi-ice or wants of the purchaser. 

It is constantly repeated in America — by those who, with- 
out any strong feelings on the subject, are nevertheless of 
opinion that slavery is wrong, and that it would have been 
better for the Union if it had never existed — that, had it not 
been for the extreme violence of the ultra-abolitionists, it might 
long ago have been peaceably abolished in the five states just 
named. Tliey urge that abolitionism has become more of a 
political than a philanthropic movement ; and that the people 
in these Middle States have clung to slavery, even Avhen it has 
ceased to be profitable, because they would not by its abolition 
weaken or dissever the Union, or overthrow the balance of 
power so as to place it completely in the hands of the Nortli. 
The Northern abolitionists are almost invariably protectionists. 
They would give freedom to the black man, but they Avould 
put shackles upon commerce for the benefit of the Northern 
manufacturers. In the South the case is exactly the opposite. 
The Southern planters would — some of them say — abolish 
slavery if they were not goaded and exasperated to it, and if 
they saw or could invent the immediate means of doin"' so 
without ruin both to themselves and the negro ; and they arc 
free-traders almost to a man. 

The first British settlement in this part of the continent 
was made in 1G34, by Leonard Calvert, brother of Lord Balti- 
more. The country was granted to Lord Baltimore by charter 
of King Cliarles I., and is said to have been named Maryland 
in honor of Plenrietta Maria, queen of that monarch. But 
this has been denied, and the honor claimed on behalf of Mary 
Calvert, wife of Lord Baltimore. Virginia, the neighboring 
state, was named in honor of Queen Elizabeth ; and Maryland, 
taken possession of in the preceding reign, but not settled or 
colonized so early, is by others asserted to have taken its ap- 



272 l.IFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

pcllatiou from the ill-starred lady known to Protestant tradi- 
tion as " Bloody Mary." But, however this may be, Mary- 
land was not ambitious to rival the character of such a sov- 
ereign, but took a course on religious matters which entitles 
its early founders to grateful mention in the history of the 
world. By an act passed in 1G39 it granted entire freedom 
of religious faith and practice to all creeds, sects, and denom- 
inations whatsoever within its boundaries. 

Baltimore, though not the capital, is the principal city of 
this state, and contains a population of upward of two hund- 
red thousand, taking rank as the largest city in the slave- 
holding states. It was founded in 1729. Its growth, how- 
ever, has not been rapid. Cincinnati, not yet forty years old, 
has outstripped it ; and Chicago, still younger, has a popula- 
tion nearly as great. But cities like these last mentioned are 
fed by the great stream of immigration from Europe, which 
invariably stops at the frontiers of slave states, and spreads 
its fructifying waters only in the lands of the free. Should 
the day ever come when Maryland shall aboli^^h slavery, the 
growth of Baltimore vvill doubtless be more steady. Phil:-- 
dclphia, its free sister, has a population approaching to half a 
million ; and there seems to be no reason, except slavery, why 
Baltimore should not become as rich and populous as the 
capital of the Quakers. 

Baltimore, famous for the beauty of its women, is seated on 
the Patapsco Eiver, at about twelve miles from its junction 
with Chesapeake Bay, and has harbors for the largest merchant 
vessels. It is called by its admirers " The Monumental City," 
but why it should have received so flattering a title is not very 
obvious. Of the three or four monuments on which its only 
claim to this distinction can be founded, there is but one 
worthy of the name, and that is the column erected to the 
great hero of America. "The "Washington Monument" is a 
noble Doric pillar of pure white marble, one hundred and 
sixty-six feet in height inclusive of the basement, surmounted 
by a colossal statue of the ^^aifer ;)oir/a'. It stands in the 
centre of a square, on a terrace one hundred feet above the 
level of the Patapsco, and, seen from the river, or from any 



BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND. 273 

part of the neighboring country, forms an imposing and pic- 
turesque object. Of "Battle Monument," erected to the 
memory of those who fell in defending the city against the 
British forces in the war of 1814, the less said the better. A 
basement of twenty feet, surmounted by a column of only 
eighteen, surrounded by houses three or four times as lofty, 
looks ludicrously small ; and, however much we may respect 
the motives of its builders, is more suggestive of a pencil-case 
standing upon a snuff-box on a drawing-room table than of a 
piece of architecture. In other respects Baltimore deserves 
the name of a fine city. It possesses many elegant public 
buildings ; its streets are wide, long, and full of life and ac- 
tivity, and seem, if the traveler may judge by the names on 
the shop-doors, to partake largely of the Irish element. Its 
principal trade is in tobacco, and, next to the home consumer, 
its principal customer is Great Britain. 

I was " under the weather," as the Americans say, when I 
arrived in Baltimore, and had caught so violent a cold from 
sitting in a draught between two windows in a railway-car, 
preternaturally heated by a fierce cast-iron stove, glowing red 
with anthracite coal, that I found it comfortable, if not neces- 
sary, to retire early to bed. My name had not been entered 
in the hotel books above an hour, and I was just preparing 
myself for slumber, when a negro waiter knocked at my door, 
and, entering, handed me the card of a gentleman who desired 
to see me on very particular and important business. The 
card bore this inscription : " The Eccelentisssimo Ilerr Al- 
phonso G r, Prince of Poets of the United States of Amer- 
ica, to the Eight Hon. Charles Mackay, Prince of Poets of 
England." 

" Surely," said I to the negro, " this man must be mad ?" 

"Don't know — nebber see him before, massa." 

" Tell him I'm sick, and in bed ; say that he must write his 
business, and call again to-morrow." 

"Yes, massa." 

I turned round in bed, and was trying to forget the untime- 
ly visitor, when the negro again appeared. 

"He Avon't go away, massa." 
M 2 



274 LIFE AND LlBEllTY IN AMERICA. 

" Tell liim that my name is Brown, or Jones — that he has 
made a mistake. Tell him that I've got the smallpox, or the 
yellow fever — any thing to get rid of him." 

It Avas evident that the negro did not quite understand me. 
I fancied, moreover, that I heard the " Eccelentissimo Herr" 
and " Prince of Poets" close behind him. And, as a last re- 
source, I got out of bed, told the good-natured negro to be 
gone, and barred and bolted the door. This was suflPicicut se- 
curity for the night, and I soon forgot all about the interrup- 
tion ; but next morning, just as I was putting on my boots, 
there came a gentle tap at the bedroom door. Oblivious of 
the "Eccelentissimo Ilerr" and "Prince of Poets," I said, 
"Come in;" and in Avalked a young man, with a very dirty 
shirt, very dirty hands, very shabby garments, very wild eyes, 
and very loose, discolorctl teeth. He smelt very strongly of 
tobacco, and held in one hand a roll of paper, and in the other 
a card. The card AA^as a fac-simile of the one I had received 
on the previous night. I kncAV my fate. I knew that I was 
in the presence of a lunatic. There Avas madness in CA'ery line 
of his countenance, in CA'cry movement of his limbs and body, 
nay, in every thread of his attire. Having rung the bell, I 
desired him to sit doAvn, that I might make the best of him, 
and get rid of him Avith all possible celerity. 

" I Avas determined to see you," he said, in very good En- 
glish, but Avith a German accent that betrayed his origin. " I 
have been Avatching your arrival for three months. You came 
over in the Asia. I saw it announced. You dined Avith the 
President. You should not liaA^e done that. Excuse me, but 
' Old Buck' is not the right man. He knoAvs nothing of po- 
etry. But let him slide ! I am glad to Avelcome you to Bal- 
timore." 

I endeavored to look pleased ; and as politely and as bland- 
ly as I could, I thanked him for his courtesy, and asked him 
his business. 

" You are a prince of poets," he said. " So am I. I am 
the greatest poet of America — perhaps the greatest in the 
Avorld. NoAV I Avant you to do me a favor." 

Here the bell was answered, and a negro entered. " Wait 



BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND. 275 

a minute or two," said I. " I will attciul to you when I have 
done with this gentleman." "And what is the favor?" I in- 
quired. 

" To read this MS.," he said, " and give me your opinion 
of it. It is poetical, musical, philosophical, and astrological. 
It is the grandest work ever written on this continent. But, 
sir, the editors here arc utter fools : there is not one of them 
fit to clean my boots. They refuse to look at my poems. 
And the President of the United States is no better than they 
arc. He knows )io more of poetry than a pig ; and as foi- 
music, sir, I don't believe he knows the difference between a 
grunt and a psalm." 

The Eccelenlissimo Ilerr here proceeded to unfold his MS., 
which was very dirty and spotted with tobacco-juice. It 
was covered all over Avith hieroglyphics, astrological signs, 
musical notation, algebraic formula?, and odds and ends of 
sentences, partly in German and partly in Italian text ; some- 
times written across the page, and sometimes down, in Chinese 
fashion. 

" I am vciy sorry," said I, " that I can not read your com- 
position ; I am too ignorant — too utterly uninstructcd in the 
symbols you use." 

"Oh, that will not signify," he replied ; " I will read it for 
you. In fact, I have come on purpose. It is an oratorio as 
well as a poem, and some of the best passages will have to be 
sung. Would you like to hear them?" 

I fancy that I must have looked alarmed at the probability 
of such an infliction, for he said with great good-nature, " Not 
now, if it will distress you, or if you are busy. But I must 
absolutely have your opinion within a day or two. The work, 
I am sure, is magnificent ; and, if you will only have the kind- 
ness to say so publicly, all Europe and all America will be- 
lieve you. You are going to Europe soon?" 

I nodded assent. 

" That is lucky ; I will go with you ; and then I shall be 
able to read my poem to you on the passage. When we get 
to London I shall ask you to introdu<'e me to the queen. I 
have heard that she is very fond of poetry, and has given Mr. 



276 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Tennyson a pension out of her husband's pocket-money, and 
that she often sends him a bottle of wine." 

'* I have not the honor of being personally known to her 
majesty," I replied ; '' and if I had, I could not introduce you. 
The American embassador in London would be the proper 
person." 

'• I don't believe in embassadors. They arc all humbugs. 
They know nolhing except how to toll lies. 15ut did you say 
lliat you were not personally known to the queen?" 

" I have not that honor and privilege." 

" Excuse me, stranger," he said, slowly and emphatically, 
"when I say that won't do. You can't sell Brother Jonathan 
in that manner.'' 

'• 1 i-oally do not know the queen, nor does the queen, as 
far as I am aware, know me." 

'* AVhat ! the Queen of England not know all about the 
poets of her o\n\ country ? Docs she not give Mr. Tennyson 
Avinc? And has she never given you any? I am certain the 
(.Juecn of England knows me — the 'Frince of Poets of Amer- 
ica.' " 

" Quite certain ?" said I. 

'' Oh, quite certain," he replied. " I have written to her 
about my oratorio, but she never answered the letter. But I 
shall go to England and sec the queen. Music and poetry arc 
properly rewarded there ; and you shall introduce me to her, 
to Lord Pahnerston, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, and 
all the rest of them." 

''What does massa please to want?" chimed in the negro 
waiter, who had been listening all the time with very little 
comprehension of our discourse. 

'• I want you to order me a carriage ; I have a very partic- 
ular engagement." 

"•Excuse me," I added, turning to the Eccelentissinio Ilcrr 
Alphonso, Prince of Poets, '' if I am obliged to go aAvay. I 
shall, perhaps, have the pleasure of seeing you again — next 
week." 

'' Do you stay a whole week in Baltimore ? Then I shall 
make it a jioint to call upon you every day. You will thu.j 



BALTIMORE AND MARYLAND. 277 

have an opportunity of hearing my poetry and my oratorio. 
There is nothing like them in tlie whole world. Stupid Amer- 
ica ! and still stupider Baltimore ! But, after all, it is not so 
much the fault of Baltimore or of America as of the dough- 
faced editors. But you, sir, must know me better. Look 
here !" And he again spread forth his greasy, tobacco-spot- 
ted manuscript, and pointed to a passage which it Avas utterly 
impossible to decipher. " Look here ! and tell me if the man 
who wrote that is not worth a thousand dough-faced editors V 

Pie looked so wild as he spoke that I thought it good policy 
to coincide in his opinion touching dough-faced editors. If he 
had been the Prince Consort of Great Britain or Emperor of 
all the Russias, I could not have treated him with greater 
courtesy and deference. He was evidently pleased. 

" Come again another day," I said. 

" This evening?" he asked. 

" No ; I am particularly engaged." 

" To-morrow morning?" 

" I shall be very busy." 

" To-morrow evening ?" 

" I will write to you whenever I can conveniently fix the 
time." 

" Ah !" he said, with a deep sigh, " I am afraid you are no 
better than the dough-faces. You do not want to read my 
poetry V 

1 was in a dilemma. I did not wish to tell him so disagree- 
able a truth. There was no way of getting out of the perplex- 
ity unless by humoring him till the carriage was ready — a car- 
riage that I did not want, but for the arrival of Avhich I began 
to grow impatient. 

For ten minutes, that seemed to have lengthened themselves 
out to ten hours, I had to play Avith this lunatic, to watch ev- 
ery change in his countenance, and to be constantly on the 
alert, lest his madness should take a turn unfavorable to my 
safety, for he kept fumbling Avith his right hand under his 
Avaistcoat in a manner that suggested the possibility of a con- 
cealed bowie-knife or rcA'olver, or, perhaps, another oratorio 
longei' than the first. But by dint of assumed unconcern and 



278 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

great politeness, I managed to parley with lum without giv- 
ing him oti'ense or exciting his suspicions. When the carriage 
was announced, he walked with me through the lobbies and 
hall, suAv me safely into it, kissed his hand to me, waved his 
manuscript in the air, and said, "To-morrow !" 

On my return, I took especial care to arrange with the land- 
lord for my future freedom from all intrusion on the part of 
the Eccelentissimo Herr and Prince of Poets, and was inform- 
ed that, though very troublesome, he was hai'mless ; that he 
went every day to the hotels to ascertain the arrivals by in- 
spection of the hotel books, and that, if he found a name of 
Avhich he had ever before heard, whether in politics, literature, 
music, or the di'ama, he sought out the distinguished stranger, 
and requested his attention to his poem and oratorio. He 
raved more particularly about the Queen of England, and im- 
agined that if he could see her his merits would be acknowl- 
edged by all America, and especially by the Baltimore editors, 
all of whom he pronounced to be " dough-faces," " muffs," and 
"white niggers." I saw no more of him ; but he called at 
least a dozen times, and finally declaimed his solemn conviction 
that I also was a " white nigger," a despiser of poetry, and 
one not worthy to be known to a person like the Queen of 
England, who had the good sense to send wine to Mr. Tenny- 
son ; but that when M. Thalbcrg (then expected) came to Bal- 
timore, he would find a man of true genius to appreciate his 
oratorio. 

Baltimore is celebrated for the canvas-back duck, one of 
the greatest delicacies of the table in the New World. The 
canvas-back feeds and breeds in countless myriads on the Ava- 
ters of Chesapeake Bay, that great arm of the sea which ex- 
tends northward into Maryland for upward of one hundred 
and twenty miles from the Atlantic. Among the wild celery 
which grows on the shores of the shallow waters, the canvas- 
back finds the peculiar food Avhich gives its flesh the flavor so 
highly esteemed. Baltimore being the nearest large city to 
the Chesapeake, the traveler may be always certain during 
the season, from November to February, of finding abundant 
and cheap supplies. Norfolk, in Virginia, at the entrance of 



FROM BALTIMORE TO NEW YORK, 279 

Chesapeake Bay, is, however, the chief emporium of the trade, 
which is carried on largely with all the cities of the Union, 
and even to Europe, whither the birds are sent packed in ice, 
but where they do not usually arrive in such condition as to 
give the epicure a true idea of their excellence and delicacy, 
"There is," says a writer in- the American Sportsman, "no 
place in our wide extent of country where wild-fowl-shooting 
is followed with so much ardor as on the Chesapeake Bay and 
its tributaries, not only by those who make a comfortable liv- 
ing from the business, but also by gentlemen who resort to 
these waters from all parts of the adjoining states to partici- 
pate in the enjoyments of this far-famed shooting-ground. All 
species of wild-fowl come here in numbers beyond credence ; 
and it is necessary for a stranger to visit the region if he 
would form a just idea of the wonderful multitudes and nu- 
merous varieties of ducks that darken the waters. But the 
great magnet that makes these shores the centre of attraction 
is the canvas-back, that here alone acquires its proper delicacy 
of flavor. The sportsman taxes all his energies for the de- 
struction of this one species alone, regarding all others as 
scarcely worth powder and shot." The best places on the 
bay are let out as shooting-grounds to companies and individ- 
uals, and appear to be as strictly preserved as the grouse- 
shootings in Scotland. If steam shall ever shorten the pas- 
sage across the Atlantic to one week, Europe will doubtless 
be as good a customer for the canvas-back duck as America 
itself. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

FROM BALTIMORE TO NEW YORK. 

April 3cl, 1858. 
In proceeding from Baltimore, in Maryland — the last of 
the slave cities — to Albany, the political capital of the State 
of New York, the train by which I traveled made a short stop- 
page at Philadelphia. On purchasing a newspaper from one 
of the venders who at each great " depot" make their way 



280 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

into the cars, I was somewhat surprised and amused to read 
the denunciations hurled against myself by an irate editor. 
This personage called upon the stones of the streets to rise, 
and the tiles of the roofs to fall down, in judgment against me 
if I ever presumed to revisit Philadelphia. And what, the 
reader may ask, was the dire offense which had been commit- 
ted ? Not much of an offense. I had expressed an opinion 
slightly adverse to the claim of Pliihulelphia to be considered 
the most eminently beautiful of all the cities of America. I 
had alleged that its long rectilinear and rectangular streets, 
kept in a continual drench by the squirtings of water on the 
legs and feet of wayfarers at all hours, from sunrise to sunset, 
by Irish maid and negro man servants, Avere neither to be 
commended for their architectural amenity nor for their exter- 
nal pleasantness. For this want of taste or appreciation the 
vials of editorial wrath were uncorked against me. I was de- 
clared to be a person without knowledge or judgment — a prej- 
udiced Britisher, who had come to Amci-ica to inflame inter- 
national animof^ities, and a person meanly jealous, as all En- 
glishmen were, of the glory and the power of "our great 
country" and its " free institutions." 

It appeared from some of the allusions of this angry editor 
that a controversy had been raging oil the subject in several 
of the Philadelphia newspapers for at least a week previously, 
and that some gentleman in the North American — one of the 
most influential and best-conducted papers in the Union — had 
been endeavoring to do battle in my behalf, to show that there 
was some modicum of truth in Avhat I had stated, and that, 
whether right or wrong in my opinions on this not very im- 
portant matter, I had not overstepped the limits of courtesy. 
My champion was almost as scurvily treated as myself. All 
that I could gather from the hullabaloo was another proof, in 
addition to many more, of the extreme sensitiveness of public 
opinion in America on the reports of English travelers. 
French and Germans may condemn, and nobody cares what 
they say ; but every editor seems to care about the expressed 
opinions of an Englishman, and to take an unfavorable ver- 
dict as a personal aftront. 



FROM BALTIMORE TO NEW YORK. 281 

A native-born American may abuse his countiy as much as 
he pleases, and say the bitterest things imaginable of its cli- 
mate, its institutions, its cities, its villages, its men, its women, 
and even of its habits and characteristics. No one is at all 
surprised or offended. But if a " Britisher" says the gentlest 
word, or makes the faintest hint that is not of thorough and 
uncompromising approbation, he is forthwith brought by the 
press to the bar of outraged nationality, and adjudged to be 
cither a knave or a fool. Previously he may have been hailed 
as a hero, a wit, a statesman, or a poet ; but as soon as lie has 
published a word, correctly or incorrectly, in disparagement 
of any thing American, these writei-s ignore or deny all his 
good qualities. What was heroism becomes poltroonery ; the 
wit collapses into drivel, the statesmanship into folly, the 
poetry into doggerel ; and the unhappy wayfarer, who meant 
no offense, and who only spoke to the best of his judgment 
and to the extent of his oppoi'tunities for forming it, may 
think himself fortunate if he be not accused as a public en- 
emy, or, at the best, as no gentleman. 

Nor is it always as safe to praise as it is unsafe to con- 
demn. Agree with an ultra-American recently imported or 
of na live growth that his country "beats all creation," and 
that, as Governor Walker, of Kansas, once affirmed, New York 
will, in twenty years hence, be the political, financial, and com- 
mercial centre of Christendom, and he will put on a grave 
face and accuse you of "jioking fun at him." The truth 
seems to be that Americans really desire to stand well in En- 
glish opinion. They care little for the good word of any othei: 
nation under the sun. It is their over-sensitiveness in this 
respect which leads them to attach undue importance to what 
English travelers may say ; which causes them to wince under 
censure, to mistrust praise, and act like those people in private 
life who, not being assured of the reality of their own position, 
find enmity where none is meant, and see covert depreciation 
even under the guise of the most flattering speeches. 

On arriving at New York I took a few days' rest — much 
needed after a journey, since I left it three months previously, 
of upward of six thousand miles, principally by railway, and 



282 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

incliisivo of foiirtoeu Imndrod miles down the Mississippi, and 
through ail its niunitbld perils oi" lire, flood, and snags. Here, 
at the New York Hotel, in the upper part of Broadway — a 
palace for travelers, to be highly recommended to all strangers 
Avho value choice fare, excellent wines, comfortable accommo- 
dation, moderate prices, and courteous attention — I prepared 
myself for a new course of travel to the noble St. Lawrence, 
the Great Lakes, and the loyal British colony of Canada. 

New York, wliich, when 1 left it, was in a state of commer- 
cial depression consequent upon the un-ended panic of 1857, 
had recovered all its confidence. A leading journal no longer 
thought it necessary to denounce gentlemen who gave dinner- 
parties or ladies vv'ho gave balls as public enemies, who mocked 
the miseries of the people. Every thing had resumed its 
natural course ; and beyond the fact that a few commercial 
firms, once of high repute, had disappeared altogether from 
business, aird were known no more in Wall Street, there was 
little or nothing to show that the country had so recently 
passed through a severe fuiancial crisis. 

It was estimated during the panic, by those whose knowl- 
edge of the subject entitles them to form an opinion, that 
British capital to the amount of $450,000,000, or nearly 
.£90,000,000 sterling, was invested in American securities. 
The whole gold coinage of the United States put into cir- 
culation from the year 1793 to the 1st January, 1856, is 
stated, on the authority of the American Almcumc, to be only 
$396,895,574: ; the silver coinage circulated during the same 
period is placed at $100,729,602 ; and the copper coinage at 
$1,572,200 ; the three together making a total of $498, 1 97,383. 

It will be seen from this statement that the difference be- 
tween the sums invested by Englishmen in American stocks 
and the whole metallic circulation of the l"'nited States is but 
little more than $38,000,000, or £7,500,000 sterling. Thus 
it is obvious, if these figures be true, that all the gold in the 
United States would not suffice to pay back to British cap- 
italists the sums they had invested in American railroads and 
other stocks, with the hope of larger dividends than similar 
enterprises yield in their own country ; and that more than 



FRO:\r EALTi:\rORE to new YORK. 



283 



half the silver, in ailditiou to (ho whole of the goUl, -wouUl be 
required for the purpose. The Duke of Wellington once said 
that " high interest Avas but another name for bad security ;" 
and the late panic in New York, and the suspension of cash 
payments by nearly all the banks throughout the Union, was 
but another proof, added to thousands of others in European 
as Avell as in American history, of the wisdom of the apoph- 
thegm. 

The railroads in the United States, the depreciation in the 
stock of which so largely increased the panic, extend over 
22,259 miles of territory ; and are thus classilied, according 
to the several commonwealths in Avhich they have been con- 
structed. The State of Arkansas is omitted, no return having 
been made : 



Maine 471'. 70 

New ILinii'shirc 479. 9G 

Vermont 493.04 

Massacluisetts 1,451.30 

Rhode Island G.").r)0 

Connecticut 618. r>5 

New York ....2,749.8') 

New Jersey 479.41 

Pennsylvania 1,777.00 

Delaware 94.00 

Maryland HIH.OO 

Virginia ljr.2.00 

North Carolina ('..');].00 

South Carolina 077.00 

Georgia 1.142.00 

Carried forward... 12, 830. 31 



Miles. 
Brought forward ... 1 2,830. 3 1 

Alabama 397.00 

Mississippi 92.00 

Louisiana 290.00 

Texas 57.00 

Tennessee 592.00 

Kentucky 195.00 

Ohio 2,095.00 

Indiana 1,533.00 

Illinois 2,285.50 

INIichigan 078.80 

Iowa 94.00 

Wisconsin 348.00 

Missouri 145.00 

California 22.00 

Total 22,259.01 



These roads are managed by no less than 202 companies, 
of which the names and titles figure at full length in the of- 
ficial records, and by a large and unknown number of smaller 
companies, not designated, but classilied in the statistics of 
each state as "other roads." The paid-up capital of scarcely 
any of these roads has been found sufficient to construct and 
work them. The amount of the paid-up capital, and debts 
of the greater portion of them, have been published. Taking 
a few of the most important, and beginning with the richest 



284 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 

unci most indebted — the two words have of late years come in 
some quarters to signify the same thing — it appears that the 
New York and Erie, running 445 miles, has a paid-up capital of 
$10,023,959, and a debt, funded and floating, of $25,902,540; 
the Illinois Central, with a paid-up capital of $2,271,050, has 
a debt of $19,242,000; the New York Central, a paid-up 
capital of $24,000,000, and a debt of $14,000,000 ; the Bal- 
timore and Oliio, a capital of $13,000,000, and a debt of 
$9,700,000 ; the Vermont Central, a capital of $5,000,000, 
and a debt of $4,900,000 ; the New Albany and Salem, a 
capital of $2,535,000, and a debt of $5,282,000 ; the AVest- 
ern, a capital of $5,966,000, and a debt of $10,495,000 ; the 
Philadelphia and Reading, a capital of $11,000,000, and a 
debt of $9,200,000 ; the Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Bal- 
timore, a capital of $5,600,000, and a debt of $8,022,000 ; 
the Virginia and Tennessee, a capital of $2,500,000, and a 
debt of $3,000,000; the Kentucky Central, a capital of 
$1,300,000, and a debt of $2,235,000 ; the Central Ohio, a 
capital of $1,521,000, and a debt of $3,485,000; the New 
Jersey Central, a capital of $2,000,000, and a debt of 
$2,266,000 ; the Michigan South and North Indiana, a cap- 
ital of $6,929,000, and a debt of $6,319,000. All the Amer- 
ican railroads are constructed at a much cheaper rate than 
those of Great Britain. Land is cheap, law is cheap, and no 
show is made by the erection of monster stations in the cities, 
or of stations with the least pretense to architectural beauty 
in the minor towns or villages. The cars are all first-class, 
but of a construction very little superior to second-class car- 
riages in England, and much inferior to second-class carriages 
in France and Germany. Yet the competition among the 
various lines is so keen, that fares arc, in a great number of 
instances, reduced far below the remunerative point. 

Another and very important reason why American rail- 
roads do not pay, notwithstanding their cheapness of con- 
struction, is not sufficiently known in England to the capital- 
ists who have advanced their money to make them ; it is, that 
there appears to be no sufficient, or any efficient check upon 
the accounts. The stations, or stopping-places, are not wall- 



FROM BALTIMORE TO NEW YORK. 285 

ed in as with us ; the taking of a ticket is not imperative 
upon the traveler, though he who enters a train without a 
ticket has to pay ten per cent, excess to the conductor. The 
great fault is that there is no check upon the conductor. He 
travels with the train all the way, collects the tickets and the 
money, and if he be dishonest can put into his own pocket all 
the cash that has come into his hands. A conductor of this 
kind was threatened with dismissal by the directors of a line. 
" You are foolish to dismiss me," he replied. " I have got 
my gold watch, my chain, my diamond pin, and my fair lady. 
If you turn me away, the next man will have to get these 
things at your expense. Better let me stop." 

To turn to the Banks. At the end of the year 1855 and 
the beginning of 1856 the number of Banks in the States of 
the Union was 1396, whose conditions and operations at that 
time are thus stated : 

Capital f343,87-t,272 

Specie Funds 19,937,710 

Specie 59,3U,0G3 

Circulation of Notes from one dollar upward 195,747,002 

Loans and Discounts 034,183,280 

Stocks (Railroad and other) 49,485,215 

Real Estate 20,805,867 

Other Investments 8,822,510 

Deposits 12,705,662 

A few additional figures, without comment, will show what 
a vast amount of wealth is produced in America, and how 
soon such a country will be enabled to right itself after a 
financial squall. Its exports, under the several heads of 
"Productions of the Sea," "The Forest," "Agriculture," and 
" Manufactures," amounted in the year 1852 to .| 192,368,984, 
and in the year 1855 to |246,708,553. The imports from 
foreign countries in 1855 amounted to $261,468,520. The 
American tonnage engaged in the foreign trade, and entered 
in American ports for that year, was 3,861,391 tons, and the 
foreign tonnage, 2,083,948 tons. In the same year the United 
States exported 1,008,421,610 lbs. of cotton, at the average 
price of 8.74 cents (4|d) per lb. ; 52,250 tierces of rice ; 
150,213 hoQisheads of tobacco: and breadstufFs to the value 



286 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

of $38,805,348. In the year 1855 there were built and 
kiunched from American ports 381 ships and barks, 12G brigs, 
G05 schooners, 609 sloops and canal-boats, and 243 steam- 
vessels : a total of 2024 vessels, with a tonnage of 583,450 
tons. Of thcAvhole tonnage of the United States, 770,285 is 
engaged in steam navigation, 180,773 in the whale fishery, 
102,928 in the cod-lishery, 2,491,108 in the coasting trade, 
and 21,205 in the mackerel fishery. The crews of American 
vessels entered in the same year were 137,808, of whom only 
557 were boys ; and of foreign vessels, 100,807, of whom 910 
were boys. The sales of public lands by the United States 
government, principally in the West, the great resort of emi- 
grants from the " Old Country," as it is fondly called, has 
greatly fluctuated Avithin twenty years. In 1830 the sales 
amounted to upward of twenty millions of acres, the price 
received by the government being twenty-five millions of dol- 
lars. In 1837 the sales dropped to 5,000,000 acres. The 
years from 1851 to 1855 inclusive show the following re- 
sults : 

Acres sold. Dollar.^. 

1851 1,816,817 2,390,947 

1852 1,553,071 1,975,058 

1853 1,083,495 1,801,053 

1854 7,035,735 9,000,211 

1855 15,729,524 .'.11,248,301 

These figures will suffice to throw some light, to those who 
attentively peruse them, on the present as Avcll as on the 
future of the United States, which have within them all the 
elements of power, greatness, and prospei-ity in a far greater 
degree than any other empire, Great Britain not excepted. 

By the seventh and last census of the United States, taken 
in 1850, the total white population of the thirty-two states, 
the District of Columbia, and the territories not yet admitted 
as states into the Union, was 19,533,008. In addition to 
these were 433,043 free blacks, and 3,204,347 slaves, making 
a total population of 23,171,058. 

In 1790 the total population was 3,929,872, or, in round 
numbers, 4,000,000. In 1850 it was upward of 23,000,000, 
as above stated, or a more than five-fold increase. In 1790 



AMERICAN LITERATUKE, AllT, AND SCIENCE. 287 

the slaves amounted to 697,897, and in 1850 to 3,204,313, 
or rather under a five-fold increase. But when we take into 
account that the white population, within the last twenty 
years, and especially for the two or three years preceding 1850, 
was augmented by a vast immigration from Europe, from Ire- 
land and Liverpool alone amounting to upward of 1000 per 
day, and that during that period the slave population was only 
augmented by its natural increase, we must come to the con- 
clusion that the black race thrives better than the white in 
America. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 

New York, 
The British races, transplanted to America, had scarcely 
concluded their earliest Avars with the aborigines Avhcn the 
literary spirit began to manifest itself among them ; and al- 
though the struggle for independence so gallantly fought and 
so nobly concluded was unfavorable to any other literature 
than that of the newspaper and the political pamphlet, the 
United States produced some authors of repute even while they 
were yet colonies of Great Britain. The most noted, if not 
the best English grammar ever Avritten, and Avhich has not 
yet been superseded on cither side of the Atlantic — that of 
Lindley Murray — was the work of an American of that early 
period ; and Franklin AA^as a name both in literature . and in 
science before it became a name in politics and diplomacy. 

The progress of Time and the consolidation of civilization 
in the elder commonAvealths of the Union, such as Pcnnsyl- 
A'ania, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and the Ncav England 
States, together Avith the diffusion of education among the 
whole people — not as a charity and as a dole, but as the in- 
herent and sacred right of every American child — led natu- 
rally to the growth of a literary taste and to the encourage- 
ment of literary genius. Though for a long period the Amer- 
icans were too bountifully supplied Avith the literature of En- 



288 LIFE AND LIBEKTV IN AMERICA. 

gland to bestow adequate encouragement upon the authors of 
their own hind, and though Anieriean bookseUers flourished 
too hixuriantly upon the brains of EngUsh genius to give any 
thing but the cokl slioukler and the averted look to any na- 
tive talent that claimed to be paid, a change Avas gradually 
wrought. 

For the last quarter of a century the United States have 
produced as many eminent poets, historians, philosophers, and 
essayists as Great Britain herself In every department of lit- 
erature Americans have entered the lists of Fame, and com- 
peted for the prizes, and no one can say that they have com- 
peted in vain, or failed to pay back to England a portion of 
the delight and instruction which our modern as well as our 
ancient literature, like a beneficent fountain on the wayside, 
has afforded to all who chose to drink of her gushing waters. 
In their poetry, which was formerly but little more than a 
faint echo of the poetry of the old land, the Americans have 
imbued themselves with the color and with the spirit of their 
own clime, and, in growing more national, have become more 
original. And it Avill show alike the newness of the poetic 
genius of the United States, and how much has been done in 
a short time, if we recall the fact that all the great poets whom 
America has produced arc living men, and some of them still 
in the prime of their lives and the vernal efllorescence of their 
powers. Bryant, Longfellow, Dana, Lowell, Ilalleck, Whit- 
tier, Emerson, Holmes, Stoddard, and others, as familiar by 
their names and Avritings to Englishmen as to Americans, are 
still in the land of the living ; and even the Nestor of the choir, 
Bryant, has not wholly ceased to sing. All these poets, it may 
be observed, are men of the free North. 

Tlie South, with its lovely climate, its balmy skies, its mag- 
nolia groves, and the abundant leisure of its aristocratic white 
population, has not yet produced any poet whose name is avoi*- 
thy to be enrolled among those above cited; or if it have, he 
blushes unseen, and his merits are unknown to the reading 
public both in the Old World and the New. It is not, how- 
ever, to be asserted without qualification that slaveiy is the 
cause of this. But it is, at all events, singular to remark, that, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIKXCE. 289 

except in the literature of their newspapers, tlie slave states 
do not compete with the literary genius of the North, and that 
tliey have as yet but few authors, and that these few are not of 
the highest class. 

America is even more distinguished for its great historians 
than fur its poets. Such men as Prcscott, liancroft, Ticknor, 
Motley, and Washington Irving have not only conferred hon- 
or upon the land of their birth, but on the language in which 
they have written. The same may be said of such novelists 
and essayists as Cooper, Hawthorne, Emerson, and Channing; 
and, indeed, of many more whose names will readily suggest 
themselves to all who arc conversant with the current books 
and intellectual activities of our age. And, under every as- 
pect of literatui-e, America is bravely doing its part to main- 
tain the ancient reputation of the language which it is its priv- 
ilege to have inherited ; that noble language which, above all 
others now spoken or written in the world, gives expression 
to the best hopes and higliest aspirations of mankind. Brit- 
ish and vYmerican literature are twin branches of the same 
lordly and wide-spreading tree, under the shadow of which 
every man can not only speak, but print and publish his free 
thoughts. There is no other language spoken cither in Eu- 
rope or in America which has a living literature, unless it be 
the literature of the brothel, as in France, and that of meta- 
physics and theology, as in Germany. 

In the English language only can the great thoughts with 
which the heart of the world is heaving be freely expressed, 
and those searching inrpjiries into all subjects of human 
thought and si)eculation — political, philosophical, and the- 
ological — which signalize our time, be carried on to any avail- 
able purpose. AVithout the enfranchisement of the people 
from the pestilential thraldom and blight of iiTcsponsible des- 
potism, it is utterly impossible for a Avholesomc and fruitful 
literature to take root. The languages of France, Italy, and 
Spain, once so prolific in poetry, history, biography, romance, 
and philosophy, retain the works of by-gone authors ; for ty- 
rants fortunately, however tyrannical and mighty they may be, 
can not destroy a book that has once been published; but 

N 



290 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

these languages produce nothing new for the delight of the 
world. They arc left in arrear with the intelligence of the 
age, and can only keep pace with the progress of a more gen- 
erous and expansive literature by translations of such master- 
pieces of genius as appear in tlie English language. 

Where treason may lurk in a song, where heresy may leaven 
a history or a romance, and where a logical argument sub- 
versive of the illogical arguments upon which a throne may 
have been founded may be traced in a treatise upon electricity, 
in a grammar, a sermon, or oven a dictionar}'-, and where the 
caprice or the passion of one fallible or perhaps insane man, 
and not law or justice, has to decide what is treason, what is 
heresy, and what is sound philosophy, how is it possible for 
poeti'y, history, romance or philosoph}'^ to exist 1 The horses 
of Apollo's chariot can neither draw the state carriage of an 
autocrat nor the omnibus of a vidgar crowd. The winged 
steeds arc free, and to submit them to thraldom is as fatal as 
to send them to the knacker's. AVithout liberty poetry be- 
comes mere jingle, history a lie, romance the pimp and the 
pander of licentiousness, mctaphj'sics practical atheism, and 
theology the text-book of superstition. 

Having so great a language and such great ideas and duties 
in common, it is much to be deplored that the two kindred na- 
tions on the east and the west of the Atlantic should not yet 
have devised the means of establishing an identity of interest 
in the productions of contemporary literature. The federal 
government, as if it Averc actuated by the thoughts, the feel- 
ings, and the calculations of a trader and dealer in books, and 
not Avith those of the living and dead men without the exer- 
cise of whose genius there could be no such things as books, 
has hitherto evaded, in a manner the reverse of brave and 
noble, the question of an international copyright. It has ei- 
ther forgotten, or has not chosen to admit, that the authors of 
a nation, more largely than any other class of men, build up 
the glorious fabric of the national renown, and that these men, 
like all others, require to cat, to be clothed and housed, and to 
provide for their families. But on these men not a thought 
has been bestowed if they have hai)pened to be Englishnici!. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 291 

Much has been said of the scandal and disgi-ace that would 
attach to both if son and father should ever go to war; but 
thousands who thus speak and write do not consider what a 
peace-maker literature is, and that if an American author had 
a legal copyright in England and an English author a legal 
copyright in America, the very best and wisest men of both 
nations would be peace-preachers and peace-makers, and fuse 
in the mighty alcliemy of their genius all the heterogeneous 
ideas that would militate against tlic perpetual friendship of 
two ccrcat states with a bond like this to unite them. 

It is to be hoped that tlie day will come when the federal 
government will be bold enough to look at this question in its 
proper light, and cease to make itself the mere partisan of pi- 
ratical booksellers, and of the very lowest and most mercenary 
influences of the shop. But as it is beginning to be apparent 
in America that American authors would gain quite as large- 
ly in England as English authors would gain in America by 
the establishment of a system worthy alike of the civilization 
and the relationship of the two countries, the probabilities in- 
crease that the bookselling interest will be made to know its 
true place, and that tlie author, both British and American, 
will receive his due. And let no one undervalue the impor- 
tance of the question, or affect to treat it as one in wliich au- 
thors alone are interested. On the contrary, it is a question 
affecting, more or less, the whole pohcy of both nations, and 
one which, if carried, would be of more real and enduring ef- 
ficacy than any treaty of peace and friendship which diploma- 
tists could frame or governments establish. It must be ob- 
served, too, in reference to this subject, that no impediment 
exists on the part of the British government. All the oppo- 
sition to justice on this plea comes from America. 

In considering, in however cursory a manner, the literary 
developments of the United States, it is impossible to avoid 
some mention of that great and growing power, the newspaper 
press. It can not be said, by any one who knows them both, 
that the press of America, as a whole, is equal to the press 
of London, or of the British Isles generally. In Great Brit- 
ain newspapers are comparatively few. It was not until the 



292 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

recent repeal of the newspaper stamp duty that such populous 
towns and cities as Manchester, IJirmingham, Liverpool, and 
Edinbiu'gh bethought themselves of having daily ncAvspapers 
of their own. Until that time, a man who advocated the es- 
tablishment of a daily paper out of London AA'as considered a 
crack-brained enthusiast, born before his time, a candidate for 
Bedlam or St. Luke's. In Glasgow, the only place where the 
experiment was previously tried, the results were not such as 
to make men of business in love with it. Had these toAvns 
and cities been in America instead of in Great Britain, they 
would each have had five or six, or perhaps a dozen daily 
ncAvspapers, besides Aveckly newspapers too numerous to 
count ; and the daily papers, instead of being things of yes- 
terday, would perhaps have been thirty or forty years old. In 
the United States, every town of 20,000 inhabitants, or ev-en 
less, has generally one, if not two daily newspapers to repre- 
sent its politics and clamor for its advertisements. In laying 
out a new city in the West, the hotel, the mill, the bank, the 
church, and the newspaper-office are often in existence befoi*e 
the streets have any other claims to identity than such as are 
derived from the plans of the architect and surveyor. The 
natural consequence of this universal demand for newspapers 
is that there are by far too many of them ; and that pressmen 
and compositors, or other persons having even less connection 
with literature than these, establish newspapers in the merest 
villages, and are their own editors, their own reporters, their 
own cashiers, and their own publishers ; nay, actually shut 
up the shutters of their oAvn shop, sweep the oiRce, or take 
" a turn at case," as necessity may dictate. In such great 
cities as New York, Boston, I'hiladelphia, Baltimore, "Wash- 
ington, Cincinnati, Louisville, St. Louis, New Orleans, and in 
many minor cities of the New England, the Southern, and the 
Western States, a different state of things prevails, and the 
newspapers are conducted by competent and highly accom- 
plished editors and writers ; but, as a rule, and in consequence 
of their multiplicity, the newspapers of the United States are 
far below the European average. Of late years a marked im- 
provement has been visible in the daily press of iho. great cit- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 293 

ies of the Union ; and New York, New Orleans, and Wash- 
ington more especially, have newspapers which might chal- 
lenge comparison, not alone in commercial enterprise, but in 
literary ability and incorruptible honesty with those of 
London. 

One distinguishing characteristic of the American press, 
considered not with reference to any particular city or state, 
but in its broadest aspects, is the personality — sometimes ill- 
natured, and often very good-natui'cd — in which its editors 
and reporters indulge. Every one lives in a blaze of publicity 
in the United States ; and English snobbery, which records 
Avho dined with the Duke of This and the Marquis of That 
on such a day — details gathered by penny-a-liners and Jen- 
kinses from footmen and butlers, and not communicated by 
the "noble lords" themselves — is outdone by the snobbery of 
America. There being no nobles to fasten upon, it makes a 
gi'ip at political or literary notoriety in the male, and at 
wealth and beauty in the female sex, and retails unblushing- 
ly what we in England would consider the most sacred secrets 
of life. In England, Jenkins tells us who dined with such a 
duke, marquis, or carl, and who were present at the ball of 
the Duchess of liosewater or the Countess of Dash, but he 
indulges in names only ; and if he have any descriptive pow- 
er, he displays it upon the furniture, the millinery, or the sup- 
per. Not so tho Jenkins of America. He goes farther and 
deeper, and presumes to describe, and even to criticise, the 
female beauty that falls under his notice. He is gossiping, 
familiar, and gallant, but sometimes ungallant, and Avrites as 
if it were the most natural and proper tlung in the world — 
of the eyes, the hair, the lips, the teeth, the shape, the smiles, 
the accomplishments, and the fortune, nay, of the very age of 
maids, wives, and widows. He criticises a fashionable beau- 
ty as he would a book — with the name in full, and the ad- 
dress also. In short, there is nothing like the same privacy 
in America that there is in England. Doubtless the princi- 
pal cause of this vulgarity is the keen competition among 
newspapers, which has gradually broken down the barriers of 
propriety, and accustomed the public to a favorable and unfa- 



294 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

vorablo personality, wliicli, under no cireunistaiicc, can be 
reconciled to good taste or gentlemanly feeling. Something 
of the same kind, though less virulent, has become observable 
in the provincial papers of England since the abolition of the 
newspaper stamp ; but, with lew and base, and no doubt 
ephemeral exceptions, it has not yet tamted the press of the 
metropolis. Let us hope that it never will. 

One peculiarity of second and third rate newspapers in all 
countries is the number of advertisements of quack medicines 
which they contain. In this respect the United States seem 
to beat the whole world. To judge from the announcements 
in all the journals, America must be the very paradise of med- 
ical and non-medical impostors, and the people the most cred- 
ulous or the most sickly under the sun. These announce- 
ments, always offensive, sometimes disgusting, and often inde- 
cent, render the journals that publish them untit to be intro- 
duced into private families. l>ut it does not appear that they 
lose in circulation A^■hat they gain in advertisements ; and that 
the business of compounding and puthng such frauds iipon the 
public credulity, if not upon the public health, must be highly 
profitable, we know by the experience of England. I doubt, 
however, if it be carried on to any thing like the same extent 
in England as in America. 

Two other peculiarities of the American press maybe noted, 
not for any importance attaching to them, but as showing the 
difference of manners in the Old ^Vorld and the New. In a 
land where liberty is supreme, fortune-telling, astrolog}% and 
necromancy, under the old names, and not disguised under the 
veil of clairvoj'ance and spiritualism, appear to be recognized 
and lawful professions. The Neiv York Herald publishes al- 
most daily a string of advertisements under the head of " As- 
trology." 

The following, taken from the first number of that journal 
that I could lay hands on after beginning to write upon the 
subject, and from which the names and addresses have been 
purposely excluded, will serve as spccinions. The fourth in 
the list, who " feels confident she has no equal," would speed- 
ily, if she carried on her swindle in England, make an inti- 



AMERICAN LITERATUEE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 295 

mate acquaintance with the interior of the House of Correc- 
tion: 

"astrology. 

U \ STROLOGY AND CLAIRVOYANCIO.— M. B CAN RE CONSULTKD AT 

XX lior uilice, Street, seccmd bluck east of tho Bowery, up secdud stiiiiv, first 

door, where she has astonished thouaauds with lier truth in tho lino of astrology and 
clain'oyance. Fee SOc." 



U /CLAIRVOYANCE.— MRS. 11 , THE BEST MEDICAL CLAIRVOYANT IN 

\J the world. Mrs. II has restored thousands to health when all other reme- 
dies have failed, and tlie patient left to die. Long doctor's bills and life saved. Let 
the wise consider. Rheumatism cured. Residence, B Street." 



U "jVrOTICE.— MRS. F , CELEBRATED FOR HER SCIENCE, GIVES MEDIC- 

J. 1 al advice, and can be cons^ilted on business, marriage, etc., at her ollice, B 

Street. She speaks Frencli, English, and German. N.B. — She cures consumption and 
rheumatism." 



ttivr B.— "\\1I0 HAS NOT HEARD OF THE CELEBRATED MADAME P ? 

i. il • She lias been consulted by tliousands in this and other cities with entire sat- 
isfaction. She feels confident she has no equal. She tells the names of future wife or 

husband, also that of her visitor. If you wish truth, give her a call, at , opposite 

15 Street. Ladies 50 cents, gentlemen 1 dollai\" 



' ' TT''^'^'^ THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD IS OFFERED TO ANY PERSON 

SJ who can surpass Madame C in the art of clairvoyancy and astrology. She 

■warrants to cure any disease in its worst form, particularly rheumatism, affection of 

the throat or lungs. N. B. — Madame C is the only natural clairvoyant in the United 

States. All wlio are afllicted, in trouble, or unsuccessful in business matters, call and 
see this naturally gifted lady." 



U \ STROLOGY AND CLAIRVOYANCE.— M. B , THE MYSTERIOUS VEIL- 

Jl\. ed lad}', can be consulted on all events of life, and has also a charm to bring 
people together who are unhappy, at G Street, second block cast of the , sec- 
ond stairs up, front door." 



UrfCLAIRVOYANCE.— MRS. S , No. — S STREET, THE MOST SUC- 

\~-' cessful medical and business clairvoyant in America. Consultations day and 
evening on sickness, business, absent friends, etc., and satisfaction guaranteed always, 
or no pay taken." 



' ' TV/r^^^^'^^ ^ CAN BE CONSULTED ABOUT LOVE, BIARRIAGE, AND 

iVX absent friends : she tells all the events of life ; she has astonished all who visit 

her. If you wish truth, give her a call at M Street, in the rear. Ladies, 25c.; 

gentlemen, 50c." 

The second pecuHarity, not so much of American newspa- 
pers as of American society, is that, while marriages and 
deaths are invariably announced in their journals, births are 
excluded. On asking for an explanation, the answer of one 
person was that there was no reason except ancient custom, 
while a second informant explained that it was considered in- 
delicate to parade such matters before the public ; but how a 
birth could be more indelicate than a marriage or a death was 
not stated. 

The progress of America in art has not been by any means 
so striking or so rapid as its progress in literature. But the 



296 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

taste for art is on the increase, and many of the most wealthy 
of the merchants and bankers in New York, Washington, Bos- 
ton, and Philadelphia have fair collections both of ancient and 
modern pictures. 

The Century Club — one of the most agreeable of all the 
places of resort in New York to which a stranger can be in- 
troduced — was established and is supported for the purpose 
of bringing together the wealthy inhabitants who love art and 
literature, and those who cultivate art or literature as a pro- 
fession. Here every night may be met in social intercourse 
with men of wealth and enterprise the principal living artists 
of rising or established fame. These, instead of being ignored 
or depreciated by their countrymen because they are Amer- 
icans, are the more highly esteemed on that account ; not only 
because they are good artists, but because the natural vanity 
is flattered by the proof which their talents afford that Amer- 
icans are able to compete with Europeans in a walk of genius 
hitherto considered above the stage of civilization to which 
the United States have attained. 

Among the most deservedly celebrated of American artists 
may be cited Mr. Kensett in landscape, and Mr. Darley in de- 
lineation of life and character. In figure drawing Mr. Darley 
is perhaps the greatest artist that America has yet seen. His 
outline illustrations to " Mai'garet" are equal, if not superior, 
to "Eetch's Faust;" and his designs for bank-notes, descrip- 
tive of American scenery, incident, trade, and character, arc 
unrivaled for breadth and facility of touch, and for admirable 
truth to nature. 

Mr. Darley, unfortunately for the art of which he is an or- 
nament, has been too fully employed by the banks of America 
in making designs for their notes to have leisure for more am- 
bitious performances ; but no one who has seen his drawings 
can doubt that his pencil rivals that of Horace Vernet in 
breadth of effect, and that of John Gilbert in facility. 

But it is in sculpture that the artistic genius of America is 
seen to the best advantage. Sculpture — grand and severe, 
and dealing with the gigantic as Avell as with the lovely — 
seems to suit the taste and the capacities of a people who 



AMEKICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 297 

have so vast a continent to subdue and replenish, and which 
appeals strongly to the primitive feelings of men who know 
they have a great work to do and are determined to do it. 
Hiram Powers has made himself a name throughout Christen- 
dom by his Greek Slave, though as a work of art it must be 
considered somewhat meretricious. Miss Hosmer has worthily 
competed for the laurels of sculpture, and won them. Craw- 
ford, cut off prematurely in the meridian of his genius, has 
endeared himself to all America by his statue of Washington 
at Richmond, in Virginia, and by many other excellent works. 
Hart, who does not disdain to make geometry an aid to poi-- 
trait sculpture, is one of the best moulders of busts known in 
our age ; and Palmer, of Albany, in the State of New York, 
in a higher degree than any of these, promises to be the great 
sculptor of America. This gentleman rendei'S the female 
figure in immortal stone in a manner that not even our own 
E. PI. Baily, who gave the world " Eve at the Fountain," has 
excelled. This artist seems not to have derived from Greece 
or Italy, but from natural intuition and patient study at 
home, the mental conception and the manual dexterity which 
have already enriched his native land with many admirable 
pieces of sculpture. His figure of a Puritan girl, the daughter 
of one of the early settlers, stripped and tied to the stake pre- 
paratory to her cremation by the savages — a figure in which 
innocence, modesty, beauty, supplication, and horror are inex- 
tricably blended — haunts the memory of all who have seen it 
— a joy and a soi'row forever. 

In science the United States have long since established 
their claim to high rank among nations. It was Benjamin 
Franklin, an American, who first "tethered the lightning to 
a wire." It was on the Hudson or North Eiver, under the 
auspices of Fulton, that the first steam-boat paddled through 
the waters. It was Lieutenant Maury, of Washington, who 
first made a chart of the curreitts of the ocean. It was Morse, 
of New York, who first promulgated the daring idea — not yet 
brought to working perfection — of an electric telegraph from 
the Old Woi-ld to the New ; and, if farther proofs than these 
were i-equired of the scientific taste and proficiency of the 

N 2 



298. LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

American jwople, they are to be found In the Patent-office, at 
Washington, where there are models of every kind of inven- 
tion and of reinvention, betokening alike the mechanical inge- 
nuity and the scientific mind of the people. To walk through 
these long and well-tilled rooms of that great Museum of In- 
vention — to which few, if any nations can oiFer a parallel — is 
to be impressed with a deep feeling of respect for the practical 
genius of the Americans, and to anticipate many greater tri- 
umphs of science at their hands. And although many of the 
models exhibited arc but the dreams and crotchets of clever 
men, and others are but the reinventions by uninformed and 
self-taught genius of contrivances previovisly well known, if 
not in full operation, it is impossible to look without intci'cst 
and admiration upon the skill, the perseverance, and the phil- 
osophic penetration displayed in their construction. Doubt- 
less it would be easy to turn into ridicule the misplaced en- 
ergy and perverted talent of too many of the patentees whose 
models are here exhibited ; but to the philosophic mind even 
the aberrations of talent are Avorthy of respect. The steam- 
engine was not brought to perfection in a day ; and many fail- 
ures must be incurred by many men before the one man, more 
fortunate than his predecessors, and knowing how to take ad- 
vantage of their shortcomings and mistakes to build up the 
edifice of his own success, vaults into the high places which 
they could not reach, and makes himself a name among the 
benefactors of his race. 

Much as the United States have done in literature, art, and 
science, they have as yet done nothing in music. England, 
ciToneously and stupidly said to be a non-musical country un- 
til Mr. Chappell, in his painstaking and highly valuable work, 
"The Popular Music of the Olden Time," knocked the ab- 
surdity on the head and killed it forever, seems to have trans- 
mitted no portion of her musical genius to her children in 
America. Though " Yankee Doodle" inflames the patriotism 
of Americans abroad and at home, and is remarkable for the 
spirit of bravado and "pluck" which made the nation adopt a 
song of ridicule and reproach, and transform it into a chant of 
glorification and triumph, the air is not American, but old 
English ; and the poetry, if it be not a desecration of the name 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE. 299 

to call it so, is below contempt, both in its English and its 
American version. Their one great national song, " Hail 
Columbia," above the average as a poetical composition, has 
also been wedded to music which is not American. " When 
Bibo thought fit from this World to Ketreat," a roistering old 
English ditty, of the days when to get drunk after dinner was 
supposed to be the mark of a gentleman, furnished the air to 
which these vaunting lines are sung. The " Star-spangled 
Banner," another patriotic song, is sung to an English tune ; 
so that the United States, even in so sacred a matter as the 
national glory, remain without a melody. Tlie airs called 
" negro melodies," concocted for the most part at New York, 
may seem, at first glance, to militate against the theory that 
the Americans have no music. But, on the contrary, they 
serve, in the minds of those who have studied the subject, to 
prove the truth of the assertion. The tunes are neither negro 
nor American. The negroes have no capacity Avhatever for 
the composition of music, and their pretended melodies, as any 
one skilled in music, who will take the trouble to investigate, 
will speedily discover, are but rifacimenti of old English, 
Scotch, and Irish melodies altered in time and character. 
"Buffalo Gals" is an old Christmas carol; "Sailing Down 
the Eiver on the Ohio," " Bobbing Around," and many other 
alleged negro melodies, are all built upon English and Scottish 
foundations ; and, so far from being genuine and unconscious 
perversions on the part of negroes, are the handiwork of white 
men well known in Broadway. Certainly there is no reason 
why the United States should not produce first-rate musical 
composers as well as poets, orators, historians, and sculptors ; 
but the fact is Avorth mentioning that, up to the present pe- 
riod, no such composer has established a claim to the highest 
honors of musical ai*t. An opera, by an American gentleman 
connected with the press of New York, was produced at the 
Academy of Music, with considerable success, in the spring of 
1858, and it is possible that hereafter the claim then put for- 
ward may be substantiated. But as yet the United States 
are without a national composer. Until they produce one 
worthy of the people, they must be content with their fame in 
literature, science, and art, and not ask for it in music. 



300 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

PARTIES AND PARTY TYRANNY. 

New York. 

There being no great and self-supporting forces in social 
and public life in the United States to balance and trim each 
other, no hereditary privilege, no aristocracy of rank, no pre- 
ponderating church, no overshadowing families, alike illustri- 
ous by their descent, pov^^erful by their wealth, and historical 
by their services, to compete with and to rival public opinion, 
mainly expressed through the newspapers and by the orators 
of the local and general Legislatures, elected by universal suf- 
frage, it results that, in many important respects, the great 
American republic is not a country where there exists as much 
political freedom for the individual as we enjoy in England. 
The whole course and action of public life in the republic go 
to prove that political freedom may exist in the aggregate 
Avithout being permitted in the segregate, and in the body cor- 
porate without extending to the individual members. The 
press, having no rival except the senate, is a greater power 
than it can ever become in an older country, where its rivals 
are many, and enjoys a liberty for itself which it does not al- 
waj'-s care to extend to those who differ from its opinions or 
refuse to share its passions. This despotism is mainly shown 
in party organization, and in the exaction by party as a body 
of duties real or supposed from its individual members, which 
are incompatible with the right of private judgment. Party 
and the pi'css act and react upon each other, and between them 
both they establish a political tyranny, none the less unscru- 
pulous and effectual because it is unsupported by bayonets, can- 
non balls, and dungeons, or the otlier agencies of despotism 
employed in Europe. 

Universal suffrage is not only the substratum on which the 
whole political edifice rests, but the supreme arbiter in all 



PARTIES AND PARTY TYRANNY. 801 

cases ; and the intricacy of the system of government — firstly, 
as regards the sepai-ate states, and, secondly, as regards the 
federation — is such that the appeal to its arbitration is inces- 
sant. Scarcely a day passes in which the popular vote is not 
required, sometimes for the election of merely municipal of- 
ficers or the appointment of judges, at others for the election 
of members of the local Legislatures, some of which have but 
one and some two houses. But it is the still more important 
election of members of Congress, with representatives elected 
for two and senators for six years, arid the quadrennial elec- 
tion of the President, which call the life of the country into 
periodical activity, and create a perpetually recurring source 
of political agitation. 

All elections whatsoever arc party questions,, and, as such, 
are contested with a bitterness which might astonish the most 
experienced burgesses of our own Eatanswills and Little Ped- 
lingtons, and make our oldest and astutest electioneering agents 
blush for the littleness of their own field and scale of opera- 
tions. Though there have never been more than two great 
and well-defined parties in the United States in existence at 
any one time, their nomenclature, as well as their objects, 
have always been so shifting and uncertain as to puzzle the 
English student and observer to understand exactly the prin- 
ciples which they profess, and the strict line of demarkation 
between them. To add to the difficulty, these parties have 
at times assumed names which are preoccupied in England, 
without reference to their original meaning. Thus, in En- 
gland, and in Europe generally, a Democrat and a Republican 
are terms Avhich are well-nigh convertible. But in the United 
States the Democrat and the Republican are quite as distinct 
and antagonistic — as. far as office and its emoluments are con- 
cerned, if not in principle — as Whig and Tory, or Liberal 
and Conservative are in the British Parhament. A Whig in 
America means, or used to mean — for the party that once ex- 
isted under this venerable cognomen is either defunct or de- 
nies its name — an ultra-Conservative, or what in England 
would be called a Tory of the old school. In a country 
where all are Republicans, to be called a Republican is to be 



802 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

called by a designation that one half of the country would re- 
pudiate ; and in a purely democratic government, a large por- 
tion of the electors indignantly object to being called Demo- 
crats. 

At the present time, the two great divisions into which the 
whole politics of the American Union resolve themselves are 
the two just named — the Democratic and the Republican. 
The existing Pi'esident, ]Mr. Buchanan, is a Democrat, and 
came in on what is called the Democratic ticket. By Demo- 
crat seems to be understood, at present — though possibly the 
word had not always the same meaning — one Avho is opposed 
to the anti-slavery and the free-soil agitation — one who would 
refrain from abolishing, or attempting to abolish, slavery in 
any of the Southern or Middle States, but who is not com- 
mitted to the policy of extending it beyond those bounds, and 
who would not aid in its reintroduction into any state by the 
Constitution of which it has already been abolished. 

The Democrats desire to see the end of the anti-slavery 
agitation in all its foi'ms and phases, believing that the states- 
men of the Union have something better to do and think of 
than to be always, as they phrase it, " talking about niggers." 
But as the slave states, by an unfortunate political necessity, 
and to maintain the balance of power, must annex territory 
to the south of the existing limits of the Union, and by the 
acquisition of Cuba — by fair means or by foul — the Demo- 
cratic party is obliged to give more countenance to slavery 
than it has always cared to confess. The slave states have 
no chance of keeping up their equality of numbers with the 
free states, which are always adding to the votes of their 
party in the Senate and in the House of Ecpresentatives by 
the creation of new states in the great wildernesses of the Far 
West — wildernesses that are capable of being cut up, in time, 
into at least twenty new commonwealths, and all free of 
slavery except by Southern immigration. Hence the Demo- 
cratic party is composed of two sections : one which loves 
slavery for its own sake ; and another which neither loves 
nor hates it, but is quite content to tolerate it, and even to 
extend it for the sake of political power, which might other- 



PARTIES AND PARTY TYRANNY. 803 

wise slip from its grasp. The Ecpublicans, on the other 
hand, are opposed to slavery on principle, and look with some 
alarm ujion its growth within its own recognized boundaries, 
and with still greater alarm upon its extension into such ter- 
ritories as Kansas, or any other states which may hereafter 
be formed to the north of the latitude formerly known as the 
Missouri Compromise Line. There are some minor and some 
important difFei'ences between these two great parties on other 
points — the Republican?, whose stronghold is in the manufac- 
turing North and New England, being for the most part ultra- 
Protectionists, Avhile the Democrats are occasionally more in- 
clined to look favorably upon those doctrines of Free Trade, 
of which British policy, since the repeal of the Corn-laws, 
has set the world so great an example. 

In all civilized countries, and more especially in those where 
there is any degree of popular liberty, there ftiust be a party 
which desires to move, and a party which dcs^ires to stand 
still ; a party which would reform abuses, and a party which 
would retain them as long as possible, for fear lest in remov- 
ing them some gi'cat bulwark of wise liberty, as distinguished 
from irrational license, might be carried away along with 
them. These two parties have always existed in the United 
States, although universal suffrage would seem to leave noth- 
ing for the advanced Liberals to desire, and had defined their 
principles, with more or less of perspicuity and sharpness, 
long before the recognition of the republic by Great Britain. 
Li the days when Washington was President, the two great 
parties in the States were the Federalists and the Democrats. 
Washington was himself the leading spirit of the Federalists, 
as his great opponent, Jefferson, was of the Democrats. The 
Federalists desired a strong central government, that it might 
present a bold front against foreign aggression, and hold up 
its head as equal to equal among the greatest powers of the 
earth. The Democrats, on the other hand, while not wishing 
to oppose the end, objected to the means, and were fearful 
that, if power too extensive were given to the central govern- 
ment, the liberty of the people in the several states and com- 
monwealths of the Union would be impaired and ultimately 



804 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

destroyed. The Federalists disappeared from the arena of 
politics after the last war "with Great Britain in 1812-14, 
but began to reappear afterward under the newer name of 
the "National Eepublicans." The same party, with some 
minor shades of ditference, appears to have sprung into re- 
newed activity in 1831-32, under the revived name of 
"Whigs," when the Northern manufacturers, alarmed at the 
progi-ess of the cotton and woolen, as well as of the iron and 
metal manufactiu'es of England, began to clamor more lustily 
than before for protection to native industry. Thus a new 
source of antagonism between parties, in addition to slavery, 
Federalism, and what are called State Eights, was introduced. 
It would be useless to detail all the nicknames which the two 
great factions of the Outs and the Ins, and the slave and the 
free, the Protectionists and the Free Traders, have accepted 
cither from their friends or their enemies — names which last- 
ed their little day, and are almost forgotten even in "Washing- 
ton and New York. But among these may be mentioned the 
Nullifiers, the Frec-soilers, the Locofocos, the Know-nothings, 
and the Native Americans. Some of these Avould exalt the 
particular state at the expense of the Union, and some the 
Union at the expense of the state. Some woidd annex terri- 
tories for the sake of slavery, and some for the sake of aboli- 
tion. Some would welcome the immigration from Europe, 
and give it political rights as soon as it arrived, and some 
would acknowledge no political privilege but in men born on 
the soil, and would keep all the political good things of Amer- 
ica entirely for the Americans. 

It is not for modes or principles of government that Amer- 
ican parties are arrayed against each other. They have es- 
tablished universal suffrage, the ballot, short Parliaments, 
paid membership — all the points upon which our English 
Chartists insist as necessary to political salvation, but they 
have not entered on the political millennium, or secured good 
or cheap government. But they have secured a tyranny of 
party and opinion, to the violence and stringency of which 
the annals of British constitutional strife can ofler no parallel. 
In public life in the United States a man is not allowed to 



PAKTIES AND PARTY TYRANNY. 805 

exercise a right of judgment in opposition to his party; if he 
do, it is at his perih He must go with his party in all that 
tlie leadei's in public meeting assembled consider to be neces- 
sary or expedient. He must accept the whole " platform," 
Avhether he like it or not. He must not presume to take one 
" plank" out of the structure, and adhere to that alone, as in- 
dependent judgment is treason to the cause. If he be guilty 
of it, he is lost as a politician, and is solemnly " read out" of 
the ranks, to become a mere aerolite, revolving in his own or- 
bit, but having no farther connection with the greater planet- 
ary body of the party except to be dashed to jiieces should he 
ever come within the sphere of its attraction. The utmost 
discipline and obedience are enforced. As party selects its 
men not only for Congress and the central government, but 
for the several state governments and Legislatures, as Avell as 
for municipal offices, all of Avhich act together and fit into 
each other like pieces of one machine, beginning with the 
town or city, and, through the medium of the individual com- 
monwealth, acting upon the United States government at 
Washi:igton, it is easy to see how vast is the ramification, and 
how complicated the cranks and wheels that are set in mo- 
tion. At the recent nomination of a mayor for the city of 
New York, which threatened to produce a split in the Dem- 
ocratic ranks, and a serious defalcation from the party, it was 
openly avowed and insisted upon by Democratic organs in the 
press, and by Democratic speakers at Tammany Hall — a cel- 
ebrated place of meeting, to Avhich political slang gives the 
name of the "Wigwam," and to the principal speakers at 
which it gives in like manner the name of the " Sachems" — 
that if the party proposed the devil himself for mayor of New 
York, member of Congress, or President of the rei^ublic, no 
member of the party would have a right to exercise any judg- 
ment as to the propriety of the nomination, but must support 
the devil by vote and influence, or leave the party. And in 
the United States, the rewards of party service are not only 
much more numerous than in England, but the opportunity 
of giving and receiving them occurs regularly every four years 
on the nomination and election of a new President. It is not 



306 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

pimply llio miiusfcrs and heads of departments, but all llic 
officials, clerks, and even supcrminierarics in tlieir employ, 
Avlio go out of office "vvitli the President — not only embassa- 
dors and consuls, but every person, high or low, great or 
small, in receipt of a salary from the state. That such a S}'S- 
tem leads to corruption, and to making the most of opportu- 
nities while they last, to peculation and to jobbery of all kinds, 
and that it can not lead to good, efficient, honest public serv- 
ice, few Americans deny. But none can see a remedy which 
would not, in general opinion, be worse than the disease. To 
extend the presidential term to eight or ten years is -one rem- 
edy that has been suggested, rather for the sake of showing its 
impracticability than for any other reason. Such a president, 
if an able man, might become too powerful for the Constitu- 
tion, and seek to overthi'ow it; and if engaged in a foreign 
war, in which he was gaining victories and territories, and 
thus flattering the national vanity and feeding the national 
passions, might, by a couj) d'etat, render his position perma- 
nent or hereditary, and so make an end of the republic. 

Another remedy which has been suggested is that of leav- 
ing the president to go out of office every four years, but ap- 
pointing for life the minor officers of the state. But this prop- 
osition has excited almost as much opposition and jealousy as 
the other, and armed against it all the multitudinous aspirants 
to office ; all the classes who have not energy enough for suc- 
cessful trade and commerce, but greediness enough to look 
with wistful eyes upon the public money ; all the classes who 
are more fitted to obey than to command, and to be subor- 
dinates than principals ; and all that still more niunerous 
class in America who think that the honors and emoluments 
of public life ai'c due to those who organize victory for the 
candidates of their party, and that the triumph of the party 
ought to be followed by the personal advancement of every 
one prominently connected with it. The United States arc 
overrun with placemen and functionaries ; and as the mem- 
bers of the local Legislatures as well as the members of Con- 
gress are paid for their services, politics has become a recog- 
nized profession, to which men arc regularly trained, and by 



PAKTIES AND PARTY TYRANNY. 307 

wliicli they expect to gain tlieir subsistence or make tlicir for- 
tunes. The consequence is, that party is as strict in its rules 
and discipline as the clerical, the medical, the legal, the mil- 
itary, and the naval professions are in Groat Britain with re- 
gard to the conduct of those who are once admitted within 
the circle. As in England there arc offenses in a clergyman 
Avhich the bishop or archbishop can not overlook ; as there is 
conduct in a barrister for Avhich lie may be disbarred, and in 
a military man for which he may be tried by court-martial, 
so, in America, the party politician must adhere to the rules 
of his part}', follow the proper lead, and vote and act as the 
party rcrpiire, or be brought to judgment, and, if found guilty, 
be drummed out of the regiment, and lose all right and title 
to tlie loaves and fishes, as well as those honors with which 
the president elected by the party might in other circumstances 
have rewarded liim. 

And it is held, moreover, that this condition of affairs is not 
only proper in itself, but absolutely necessary to the efficient con- 
duct of public business. The obvious tendency of government 
in the United States is to be weak and to be weakened. Law- 
makers there are more habitually law-breakers than in older 
communities ; and men, especially in the half-settled districts 
and in the slave states, are but too much inclined to be judges, 
jurors, and executioners in their own cause, and to supersede 
all other judgeship by the decisions of that very famous and 
expeditious j udge, whose court is in the highway and the by- 
ways, whose instruments are the passions of the people, from 
whose decisions there is no appeal, and whose name is Lynch. 
To prevent this tendency to the disintegration of power con- 
sequent upon the fact that eveiy man considers himself a sov- 
ereign, a judge, and a lawgiver by virtue of his inherent and 
indefeasible right to a vote, it is found necessary to set up a 
counter jurisdiction to that of the individual, in the jurisdic- 
tion of the party, and to fuse, as it were, the million chaotic, 
heterogeneous, and conflicting tyrannies of the mass into the 
two larger and more manageable tyrannies of the expectant 
Outs and the complacent Ins. Universal suffrage for the 
mere choice of a ruler, and for nothing else, may lead to a 



808 LIFE AND LIBEKTY IN AMERICA. 

strong government, as in France ; but univei'sal suffrage ex- 
tending not only to the clioice of the chief magistrate, but to 
the whole course of his policy, and to the whole ^jerso?me^ of 
his appointments, leads inevitably — as in America — to a weak 
government ; so weak that the tyranny of party becomes ab- 
solutely necessary to keep life and soul together, and to pre- 
vent that disintegration which is political death. 

Party strife and its results in Great Britain indirectly affect 
the whole people, inasmuch as they affect the course of the 
national policy at home and abroad ; but it is only a small 
section of the governing class and its immediate dependents 
Avho are directly interested, and whose personal positions and 
fortunes are palpably involved. With us the battles of party 
kill only the officers, and leave the rank and file unscathed. 
In the United States the whole army takes the chances of 
war, and when the generalissimo goes, his lowest soldier goes 
with him. And there is this defense for the American sys- 
tem — it is a natural conclusion from the premises. Granted 
a pure democracy ; and party tyranny is the necessary result. 
Every man is eligible to the presidency. Every man thinks 
himself as good or better than the President ; and if the Pres- 
ident has any thing to give away, why not give it to his polit- 
ical equal who helped to elect him? And when the Pres- 
ident goes, it would seem to be a depreciation of the dignity 
and value of the humblest evvployh in Custom-house or Post- 
office whom he appointed if they did not follow him into re- 
tirement. And they go accordingly, and remain in opposition 
for another four years, until a new turn in the wheel brings 
their party back again into office, and themselves into ad- 
vancement. 

In Massachusetts and some other states, the judges are ap- 
pointed for life by the Senate and the governor, and are thus 
placed above the turmoil of party politics, to breathe a serencr 
atmosphere, more suitable to a due administration of justice 
than the murky and lurid air which chokes those lower valleys 
where the combatants meet. But, with the exception of such 
local judges, and those of the Supreme Court, there is scarcely 
a functionary in the Union that has held the same office above 



ALBANY. 309 

four years; and perhaps the most ancient of all as a functlon- 
luy is the honest EnniskilUner, named M'Manus, well known 
to all the City of AVashington, and to every body -who has 
olRoial business there, who hoUls the position of door-keeper 
at the White House or President's mansion. For no less 
than three pi'csidential terms has IM'Manus — as great in his 
own way as any Gold or Silver -JStiek, Black Eod or rolonius 
in Europe — kept his position. Presidents, like comets, have 
sailed into the political heaven with their portentous tails, and 
passed out of sight, but he has remained in his appointed 
sphere, to introduce any one to the President witli or Avithout 
a card, or at any time ; to be '" Hail, good fellow, well met !" 
with senators, representatives, governors, embassadors, and 
judges; to wait behind the presidential chair, or nslier the 
guests to dinner, or hold a conversation on the politics of Eu- 
rope or America in the ante-room ere dinner is announced. 
Partly a lord-chamberlain, partly a Gold Stick, partly a lord 
in waiting, partly a door-keeper, partly a butler, partly a foot- 
man, and entirely a citi/en, M'Manns is himself an institution 
— an important and urbane pci'sonage, and one who has prob- 
ably had more real enjoyment in the possession of the White 
House than any president who ever went in or came out of it. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

ALBANY. 



April, 1858. 
From New York to Albany was a short journey; but, ci-c 
starting, the interesting question — to one who had not beheld 
the magniticent scenery of the Hudson — was how to undertake 
it — by rail or steamer > The weather and time of year de- 
cided me in favor of the rail. The ice upon the Hudson had 
not sutliciently cleared away to enable steam-boats to recom- 
mence their usual passages. Though at a later period I was 
enabled to see this great river in all the glory of spring — to 
sail past the Palisades, through the Tappan Zee, and np to 
Albany (^wheu 1 found abundiuit reason to agree with the most 



310 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

entlnisiastic of Americans that no river in Europe, unless it 
be the Clyde, surpasses the Hudson in natural beauty, and 
that the Rhine itself, deprived of its ruined castles, could not 
stand a comparison with this splendid stream), I saw nothing 
of it on this occasion but a few stray glimpses of its surpass- 
ing beauty as the train shot rapidly along. Traveling thus on 
the left bank of the river for upward of one hundred miles, I 
ai-rivcd at Albany, and betook myself to " Congress Hall," in 
the upper part' of the city. This hotel was recommended to 
me as an establishment much frequented by members of the 
two houses of the Legislature, who here, in the capital of the 
" Empire State," undertake the local government of a Com- 
monwealth almost as large as England, and nearly double as 
populous as Scotland. I found^no reason to repent my choice, 
and during a residence of ten days was enabled to see the sen- 
ators in de'shahiHc, and to learn something of the mode and 
the agencies by which public and private bills are brought in 
aiid carried through Parliament in an ultra-democracy. I 
also got some insight into the art and mystery of what the 
Americans very aptly call " lobbying." 

Albany — beautifully situated on ground rising steeply from 
the banks of the Hudson — contains about fifty thousand inhab- 
itants, and is one of the most attractive, cleanly, well-ordered, 
and elegant cities of America. Though overshadowed by the 
commercial gi-eatness of New York, which in this respect it 
can never hope to rival, it is, next to Washington, the great- 
est focus of political life within the limits of the Confederacy. 
Between the commercial and the political capitals of this great 
state, which it has recently been proposed to call Ontario in- 
stead of New York, there is a great contrast. New York city 
is busy, unscrupulous, energetic, ill-governed, full of rowdyism 
and of the most violent manifestations of mob-law and mob- 
caprice ; but Albany is staid, decent, and orderly. The tone 
of society is quiet and aristocratic, and the whole appearance 
of the place gives the traveler an idea of wealth and refine- 
ment. Farther acquaintance only tends to confirm this im- 
pression. 

State Street — at the top of Avhich, in the Park, a bcautil\il 



ALBANY. 311 

open space adorned with noble elms and maples, stand the 
Capitol and other principal public buildings — rises steeply 
from the water's edge to the crown of the hill. It is a broad 
and busy thoroughfare, and at various points commands a pic- 
turesque view over the Hudson to the lofty green hills be- 
yond. Albany is a place of considerable trade and manufac- 
ture. It produces very excellent cabinet-work of all kinds, 
and is particularly celebrated for its stoves, grates, and orna- 
mental iron-work. It has two, if not three daily newspapers, 
and a flourishing literary and scientific institution. The Ko- 
man Catholic Cathedral is internally one of the largest and 
most magnificent ecclesiastical edifices in America. Here 
high mass is sometimes performed with a splendor and com- 
pleteness, orchestral and vocal, not to be excelled even in Paris 
or Vienna, and to which London, as far as I know, can make 
no pretensions. Albany is the proposed site of what promises 
to be the noblest Observatory in America, to the foundation 
of which the public sjiirit of a private citizen (if the term be 
applicable to a lady) has contributed the sum of $80,000. 

Albany, which is memorable as having been the scat of the 
great Convention held in 1754 for the purpose of bringing 
about a confederation of the thirteen original states and colo- 
nies for their mutual defense and general benefit, was called 
Fort Orange by the Dutch at the time when New York was 
known to the world as New Amsterdam. The Albanians, as 
the people of this city are fond of calling themselves, though 
to European ears the name sounds oddly, and is suggestive of 
Greece rather than of America, do not seem to be generally 
aware that the word Albany springs naturally from that of 
York ; that the Dukes of York in the " Old Country" are 
Dukes of Albany ; that Albany is an ancient name for the 
kingdom of Scotland, and tliat the dukedom of Albany was 
the appanage, by right of birth, of the heir-apparent of the 
Scottish crown. 

Up to this point, and no farther, sailed the adventurous 
Hendrik Hudson in search of the Avestern passage to China ; 
and liere, and all the way up from the I'alisades — still di-eara- 
ing that he was on tlie highway to Cathay and all its fabulous 



312 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

and scarccly-to-be-imagined wealth — he held intercourse with 
the simple-minded natives, and exchanged his petty gewgaws 
with them for the spoils of the forest. It was not until the 
year 1C09 — long after the discovery of America — that Hud- 
son, in his ship the Half Moon, entered the Narrows, and pro- 
nounced the shores on either side to be " a good land to fall 
in with, and a pleasant land to see." On the 11th of Sep- 
tember in that year he began to ascend the noble stream which 
now bears his name, and on the 19th he anchored off the spot 
where now stands the city of Albany. At the place now 
called Castleton he landed and passed a day with the natives, 
finding them kind and hospitable. He Avould not, however, 
consent to pass the night away from his ship ; and the natives, 
thinking in their unsophisticated innocence that he was afraid 
of their bows and arrows, broke them into pieces and threw 
them into the fire. Little did honest and unfortunate Hen- 
drik Hudson knoAV what an empire he was helping to estab- 
lish ! Little did the poor Indians dream what an empire was 
passing away from hands no longer fitted to hold it, and what 
omens of downfall and ruin lay in every flap and flutter of 
the sails of that strange ship ! Had they foreseen that their 
race was doomed to melt away and disappear in the fierce 
light of those pale faces like the ice of the winter before the 
sunlight of the spring, their gentle courtesies might have been 
converted into hatred as unrelenting as that with which the 
white strangers were received elsewhere, and which looks, in 
the light of subsequent history, as if it were prompted by the 
instinct, which so often transcends reason. No trace of the 
Indians now remains in all the wide territories of the State 
of New York except a few stunted, miserable stragglers and 
vagabonds in the Avildernesscs of Lakes Champlain and Ni- 
agara — wildernesses which will speedily cease to be wilder- 
nesses, and in which the Red Man in a few years will no 
longer find a resting-place for the sole of his foot, and where 
he will even cease to be regarded as a show and a curiosity. 
What an enormous change in less than half a century ! At 
St. Louis there are men still living Avho had to fight hand 
to hand with the Indians for their lives, and whose hearts 



ALBANY. 313 

palpitated many a time in the silent watches of the night, 
when the war-whoop sounded in their ears, lest ere the break 
of day the tomahawk sliould Hash before their eyes, and their 
scalps should hang as trophies at the girdles of the savages. 

From the polite art of scalping to the politer art of lobby- 
ing is a long leap, but both are suggested by Albany past and 
pi'esent. Lobbying is one of the great results of equality, imi- 
versal suffrage, and paid membership of I'arliament. AMiere 
the profession of polities is pursued, not for love of fame or of 
honor, or from motives of patriotism, but simply as a profes- 
sion oiFering certain prizes and privileges not so easily attain- 
able in law, medicine, art, or litei-ature ; in a political scram- 
ble, where the man with " the gift of the gab," the organizer 
of public meetings, the marslialer of voters, the ready oi'ator 
of the mob, is provided with a seat in the Legislature and a 
respectable salary at the same time, it is not to be wondered 
at that men of more and)ition than intellect or virtue should 
aspire to and attain parliamentary power. There are brilliant 
exceptions, no doubt — men of fortune and intellect, who serve, 
or try to serve their country from purely patriotic motives ; 
but these do not form the bulk of the State Legislatures of 
the Union, or even of that more dignified Congress which sits 
at Washington. The three, four, or five dollars per diem 
which the members receive in the local Legislatures is but too 
often their only source of subsistence ; and no one who knows 
any thing of the internal working of American politics will 
deny the fact that such members are notoriously and avowed- 
ly open to the influence of what is called " lobbying." In 
our ancient Parliament strangers have but scant and soi-ely- 
begrudged admission to the debates, and none whatever to the 
body or floor of the House ; but in the American Legislatures 
the privilege of the floor is, if not indiscriminately, very freely 
granted. Governors, deputy governors, and ex-governors, ex- 
members, judges, generals, newspaper editors, and a whole 
liost of privileged persons, can enter either chamber, and mix 
familiarly with the members, sit with them on their seats, and 
be as free of the House for every purpose, except speaking 
and voting, as if they had been duly elected by the people. 

O 



314 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

This easy and familiar intercourse leads, in the case of pri- 
vate and local bills, to an immensity of jobbery, and has made 
"lobbying," in most, if not all the states, a recognized art 
and science among the prominent outsiders of political life. 
Nor can it well be otherwise, the preliminary conditions being 
granted. All the local business as regards public Avorks and 
improvements of the great city of New York is transacted at 
Albany, which is the Westminster without being the London 
of the " Empire State." And how is it to be expected that a 
needy and ambitious lawyer without practice, having nothing 
but his three or four dollars a day, and upon whose single 
vote the fortunes of a project costing millions to carry into 
effect may absolutely depend, shall not be open to the influ- 
ences of those who "lobby" him? No farther disquisition 
upon the morality or propriety of such a state of affairs is 
necessary. It may be noted, however, for the guidance of 
such of the " advanced politicians" of our own Country who 
think or argue that if a thing be established in America it 
would be well to give the same thing a trial in England, and 
who, for this reason, advocate paid membership of Parliament 
among ourselves. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 

In traversing this great republic — so vast in extent, so rich 
in resources, not one tithe or one hundredth part of which is 
yet developed or thoroughly known — it is impossible for any 
traveler of ordinary intelligence, whatever be the bent of his 
mind, to avoid indulging in some degree of speculation as to 
its future destiny. If now, with a population not equal to 
that of the British Isles, but with a territory capable of em- 
ploying and feeding ten or twenty times the number, it holds 
so high a place in the polity of nations, what will be its power 
and influence abroad and its happiness at home when its fruit- 
ful valleys, its teeming hill-sides, and its magnificent prairies 



THE FUTUEE OF THE UlsriTED STATES. 815 

are all brought under cultivation ; when its coal, its copper, 
its iron, its lead, its silver, and its gold mines shall be all add- 
ing their tribute to the national wealth ; when the smoke of 
countless factories shall darken the air in districts where the 
primeval forest yet stands ; and when it shall produce within 
its own boundaries all the articles of necessity and luxury 
that it now draAvs from Europe? Inhabited by the noblest 
and most intelligent races on the earth ; starting fair and free 
in the great competition ; utterly vmtrammeled by the impedi- 
ments wliich have retarded the progress of the same peoples 
in our older hemisphere, to what uses will they turn their un- 
paralleled advantages ? Will they be able to solve the great 
problems of government which have puzzled sages and philos- 
ophers, kings and statesmen, students and men of business 
since the world began ? And will they secui'e, as they grow 
older and more thickly peopled, that which all governments 
profess to desire — the greatest happiness of the greatest num- 
ber'? Shall practice and theory be found compatible with 
each other ? And shall republicanism be able to justify itself 
in the eyes of all men, as not only the most equitable and 
workable, but the most beneficial and convenient form of 
government for the, masses of mankind ? And, above all the 
rest, will the union of perhaps a hundred commonwealths, 
instead of only thirty-two, as at present, be permanent ? Or 
will the inci'case of population lead to difficulties which are 
now lightly felt — if felt at all — in consequence of the im- 
mensity of elbow-room wliich the wilderness allows discontent 
to emigrate to and to thrive in? And will those difficulties 
— aided by time, aggravated by circumstances, and rendered 
different in degree as well as in nature in the South and in 
the North, and on the Pacific Sea-board, by the operation of 
climate upon the life, character, and brain of the race — be- 
come so irreconcilable as to dissever the glorious fabric, and 
re-enact in America the melancholy drama of Europe and 
Asia? 

Americans who bring the knowledge acquired by European 
travel to the study of their native politics, past and present, 
do not conceal their opinion that a dissolution of the Union is 



olG LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Minoui;" (lio possibilllios luul ommi pi^bubllhios of llio riilmv; 
but, ;i8 thoy *lo not anticipnto siu'h ixn ovont while tho jioim- 
lallou is iinilor tU'ty millions, or ovoii iiiulor :i luiiulivd, it givos 
them no grout anxioly. Tho dolugo that, is to burst over tho 
earth in a hundrod yoars is a dolugo which, even if positively 
certain to come and impossible to prevent, gives little trouble 
to the existing geucration. INIany persons iu the ITnited States 
talk of a dissolution of the I'nion, but few believe iu it. At 
intervals, some tiery orator or editor of the South, exasper- 
ated by tho taunts of equally tiery and unreasonable abolition- 
ists and Free-soilers iu tho North, and feeling, at the same 
time, that he is taxed in his wearing apparel, his household 
furniture, and in every artielo of luxury for the supposed beu- 
cfit of Northern manufacturers, calls for a Southern eonfedera- 
tion of slave states, and insists that they eould uiaintain theui- 
selves against the free north either by their own unaided en- 
crsry and resonrees, or by moaus of a eommerelal and free- 
trade allianeo with Great l>ritain, their best customer ibr all 
their agricultural produce of sugar, rice, and cotton. Sonic- 
times a Northeru orator or editor endeavors to retaliate upon 
the South, to show it that without the North they eould not 
subsist, and that the North, with three times their iiopulalion, 
and all composed of free men, could reanucx the South in a 
sununcr campaign, even without raising tho cry of freedom to 
the uegroes to exasperate and to shorten the struggle. Another 
section of tho North, not so warlike in tone, is sometimes driven 
to make the assertion that, if it eould get rid of its enforced 
participation in the sin of slavery by any other means than dis- 
ruption, it would welcome disruption as a boon, lint all this 
is mere bravado and empty talk. It means nothing. Tho 
Union is dear to all Americans, whatever they may say to tho 
contrary ; and if any one not an American presumes to reit- 
erate the belief — which may, perhaps, have been instilled into 
his mind by American argunients — that the Union will be dis- 
rupted, he is either told that he knows nothing about the mat- 
ter, or that, being tilled with a mean jealousy of Anterican 
greatness, " the wish is father to the thought." 

Whatever may happen in future, tlicro is no present danger 



THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 317 

to the Union, and the violent expressions to which ovcr-ardcnt 
politicians of the North and South sometimes give vent have 
no real meaning ; and those who would truly understand the 
feeling of Americans in this respect must remember that the 
North and the Soutli have not all the arguments to themselves, 
and do not compose the whole Union. The largest portion, 
and one which promises to be hereafter the richest and most 
prosperous of the whole Confederation, is the West. The 
" GuEAT West," as it is fondly called, is in the position even 
now to arbitrate between North and South, should the quarrel 
sti-etcli beyond words, or should anti-slavery or any other ques- 
tion succeed in throwing any dillerence between them which 
it would take revolvers and rifles rather than speeches and 
votes to put an end to. General Cass, who in early life was 
United States Commissioner for the Indian Territory west of 
the Ohio — a territory at the borders of which now stands the 
large city of Cincinnati, and which is covered for hundreds of 
miles beyond that point with cities, towns, and villages, and 
all the stir of a Ijusy civilization — expressed at a recent rail- 
way meeting in Cincinnati the prevalent idea of his country- 
men on this subject ; " I have," said he, " traversed this West- 
ern region when it was a wilderness — an almost unbroken for- 
est fi'om this point to the I'acific Ocean — a forest inhabited 
only by the wild Indian and by the wilder animals which God 
gave him for his support. Where I then followed the war- 
path I now pass up the railway. I have in the interval visited 
the most higldy civilized nations of the Old World, and I have 
returned, I think, a better citizen and a wiser man. I say 
that there is not on this earth, from the r'lnn" to the scttinf 
sun, a more prosperous country than the United States, a bet- 
ter government, or a happier people. You, my fellow-citizens 
of the West, hold the destinies of this magnificent republic in 
your hands. Say to the North or to the South, or to any 
quarter Avhencn comes a threat of disunion, 'I^eace, be still!' 
We in the West have the power to preserve this precious work 
of our fathers, and we ivill preserve it ! The Hebrews of old 
had their pillar of cloud by day and their pillar of fire by night 
to guide them through the desert to the promised land ; and 



818 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

pinc'O the moiuorablc day of our oxodtis from llic bondngc of 
Englaiul wo have had guides — pillars by day and night — which 
have led us through many trials and dangers, till there is now 
no one to injure us but ourselves, and nothing to fear but the 
just judgments of God. Let us jironounee, then, with one 
voiee, ^ AVitlicred be the liaiid that is stretolied out to touch 
the Ark of the Union. The mighty West will defend it, now 
and forever!' " 

And no doubt tliis is the feeling of Americans of all par- 
ties Avlierever they reason calmly upon the subject, and arc 
not betrayed into petulance by the slavery question. As the 
venerable statesman truly observes, the United States incur 
no danger from foreign aggressions; there is no one to injure 
them but themselves ; and they have nothing to fear but " the 
just judgments of God." l>ut this is only a portion of the 
subject, and the questions still remain, Will they not injure 
themselves? And will they not incur the judgments of God 
by contravention of his moral laws, and by their lust of terri- 
tory, bringing them into collision with foreign powers'? That 
the people will increase, and multiply, and replenish the whole 
continent, no one can doubt ; and that, in the course of ages, 
North America will be as populous as Europe, and reach a far 
higher civilization than Asia ever attained even in the pre-his- 
toric ages, which have left us no other records but their mar- 
velous architectural ruins, it would be a want of faith in the 
civilizing influences of freedom and Christianity to deny. But, 
in speculating upon the future of a people, the mind clings to 
the idea of empire and government, and we ask ourselves 
whether empire in this noble region will be one or many, cen- 
tral or local, imperial or republican? Whether the great re- 
public shall exist undivided, or whether it will fall to pieces 
from its own weight and unwieldiness, or from some weakness 
in the chain which ^hall be the measure and the test of its 
strength ? Or Avhether, for mutual convenience aiul by com- 
mon consent, these Anglo-Saxon commonwealths, when they 
have doubled, trebled, or quintupled their numbers by tlie sub- 
jugalioii of the eulire Avilderness, shall not rearrange tliem- 
selves into new combinations, and form a binary or a trinary 



THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 319 

system, such as the telescope shows us in the heavens? Or 
whether, in consequence of internal stiife, some new Alexan- 
der, Charlemagne, or Napoleon of the West shall arise to 
make himself lord absolute and hereditary, and at his death 
leave the inheritance to be scrambled for and divided V>y his 
generals? Though it may be folly to attempt to look too far 
into the future, or for a statesman to legislate with a view to 
what may or what may not happen a hundred and fifty years 
hence, still true wisdom requires that men charged with the 
destinies of great nations, and having the power to influence 
the course of events by their deeds and their opinions, should 
not confine themselves to the things of to-day, but calculate 
by aid of the experience of history, and by knowledge and 
study of human nature, how the deeds of to-day may influence 
the thoughts of to-morrow, and how tlie thoughts of to-mor- 
row may produce deeds in endless succession through all fu- 
ture time. 

That the Union may be disturbed or disrupted at some 
period near or remote, is an idea familiar to the mind of 
every inquirer and observer ; and Avei-e it not so, the very 
threats of the North or South, meaningless as they may be at 
the present time, would serve to make it so. Mr. JJuchanan, 
the actual president, whose perceptions have been enlarged V>y 
European travel and residence, and whose mind is not entirely 
inclosed within an American wall, as the minds of some of liLs 
countiymcn are, is among the number of statesmen in the 
Union whose eyes are opened to the dangers which it may in- 
cur hereafter when population has largely increased, and when 
the struggle for existence — now so light in such a Vjoundless 
and fertile region — has become as fierce and bitter as in Eu- 
rope. It is, after all, the hungry belly of the people, and not 
the heads of legislators, that tries the strength of political sys- 
tems ; and when all the land is occupied, and has become too 
dear for the struggling farmer or artisan to purchase ; when 
the starving man or the pauper has a vote equally with the 
well-fed and the contented proprietor; and when the criminal 
counts at an election for as much as an honest man, what may 
be the result of universal suffrage on the constitution of the 
republic and the stability of the Union i 



320 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEKIOA. 

In :i loiter npoloji;izinp; for non-attoiulancc at the centennial 
eclebralion of the capture of Fort Diupiesne, llio President 
uttered these memorable Avords : 

" From the stand-jxiint at whicli we luvve arrived, the anx- 
io\is patriot can not fail, Avhile reviewinji- the j)ast, to cast a 
i;lance into the future, and to speculate upon "what may be the 
condition of our beloved country when your posterity shall as- 
semble to celebrate the second centennial anniversary of the 
capture of Fort l)n(iuesne. Shall our whole country then 
compose one united nation, more populons, powerful, and free 
than any otiier Avhich has ever existed '? Or will the federacy 
have been rent asunder, and divided into <>;roups of hostile and 
jealous states ? Or may it not be possible that, ere the next 
celebration, all the fragments, exhausted by intermediate con- 
llicts with each other, may have finally reunited, and sought 
ivl'iige under the shelter of one great and overshadowing des- 
potism '? 

"These questions will, 1 firmly believe, nnder the pro\-i- 
deuce of God, be virtually decided by the })resent generation. 
We have reached a crisis when upon their action de])ends the 
])reservation of the Union according to the letter and spirit of 
the Constitution, and this once gone, all is lost. 

*' I regret to say that the present omens are far from ]iro- 
pitious. In the last age of the republic it was considered al- 
most treasonable to pronounce the word 'disunion.' Times 
have since sadly changed, and now disunion is freely pre- 
scribed as the remedy for evanescent evils, real or imaginary, 
which, if left to themselves, would speedily vanish away in the 
progress of events. 

" Our Kevolutionary fathers have passed away, and the gen- 
eration next after them, who were inspired by their personal 
counsel and example, have nearly all disappeared. The pi-cs- 
cnt generation, deprived of these lights, must, whether they 
will or not, decide the fate of their posterity. Let them cher- 
ish llie Union in their heart of hearts — let them resist every 
measure which may tend to relax or dissolve its bonds — let 
the citizens of diHerent states cultivate feelings of kindness 
and forbearance toward each other — and let all resolve to 



THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 821 

traiiBmit it, to their desccndaiitH in the form and spirit tlifsy 
have inherited f'roin tlicir fljrefathers, and all Avili then be well 
for our country in future time." 

The President, although it may seem presumptuous in a 
stranger to say so, seems to mistake the feelings of his coun- 
trymen on " disunion." lie ap[)cars to believe tlieir transi- 
toi-y anger to Ix; tlie expression of a deep conviction. From 
his high position as an American, he does not aderpiately un- 
derstand or clearly see that what Americans say to Americans 
in the heat of conflict is not what they say in cooler moments 
to Europeans. As husband and wife often hurl words of bit- 
terness and scorn to one another, which they would be very 
Sony that any one else should hurl or even whisper against 
cither of them ; in like manner, the Americans speak of the 
rupture of the Union "en famillc." "They skin their skunk" 
in their own domain, and wish no foreigner to be within I'oach 
of the bad odor. And although the present Constitution of 
the Confederacy be a Constitution for fair weather, often un- 
workable and coming to a dead lock, and no more suitable for 
stormy weather than one of the elegant and commodious 
Hudson Eiver steam-boats is for the swell .and tempest of the 
Atlantic Ocean, it is clear from their own past history, recent 
as it is, that the Constitution can be amended, and be ma<]c 
clastic enough to meet all ordinary contingencies of wind and 
weather. 

Tlje real dangers of the Union do not spring from the ine- 
lasticity of the Constitution or from the quarrels of the North 
and South, from slavery or anti-slavery, or from any domestic 
question likely to arise, so much as they do from lust of ten-i- 
tory on the one part, and from political and social corruption 
on the other. Both of them are peculiarly the vices of re- 
publics. The first leads to war ; war produces warriors ; 
warriors, if brilliantly successful, become ambitious ; and am- 
bition tempts to the overtlirow of the political system that 
will not allow it scope. The Alexanders and the IJonapartes 
are a class which has more numerous representatives than the 
Washingtons. The United States have had one pure patriot, 
and will be both unfortunate and fortunate if they have an- 

02 



322 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

other to equal either his purity or his renown — unfortunate 
in the civil commotions and difficulties which can alone pro- 
duce such a man, and fortunate, should a hero of equal cour- 
age and fortune emerge out of civil strife, if he do not turn 
his victories to personal account, and aggrandize himself at 
the expense of the liberties of his country. 

But a greater danger even than this — the most formidable 
of all the rocks that are ahead — is the growth of peculation 
and corruption, and the decay of public virtue. A republic 
is, theoretically, the purest and most perfect form of govern- 
ment, but it requires eminently pure men to work it. A cor- 
rupt monarchy or despotism may last for a long time without 
fatal results to the body politic, just as a man may live a long 
time, and be a very satisfactory citizen, with only one arm, 
one leg, or one eye. In despotic countries the people may be 
virtuous though the government is vicious; but a corrupt re- 
public is tainted in its blood, and bears the seeds of death in 
every pulsation. And on this point Mr. Buchanan seems to 
have a clearer vision than many of his countrymen. The 
presidential chair, like the tripod of the Pythoness, gives an 
insight into things. He knows by the daily and hourly solic- 
itations of political mendicancy — by the clerkship demanded 
for this man's son or that man's cousin — by the consulship re- 
quired for this brawler at a meeting, and the embassadorship 
to London or Paris, or a place in the ministry claimed by this 
indomitable partisan or that indefatigable knocker and ringer 
at the door of promotion, how corrupt are the agencies at 
work. He knows, too, what personal humiliation he himself 
had to undergo before reaching the Wliite House, and which 
he must daily suffer if he would please liis jmrty. He knows, 
as every President must know, no matter who or what he is, 
or what his antecedents may have been, what a vast amount 
of venality has to be conciliated and paid, one way or another, 
before the hungry maw of Universal Suffrage can be fed and 
satisfied, and the Avheels of the great car of the republic be 
sufliciently greased. In reference to this fever in the blood of 
the state, he thus solemnly warns the citizens in the letter 
from which quotation has ah-eady been made : 



THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 823 

" I shall assume the privilege of advancing years in refer- 
ence to another growing and dangerous evil. In the last age, 
although our fathers, like ourselves, -were divided into political 
parties which often had severe conflicts with each othei', yet 
we never heard until within a recent period of the employ- 
ment of money to carry elections. Should this practice in- 
crease until the voters and their representatives in the state 
and national Legislatures shall become infected, the fountain 
of free government will be poisoned at its source, and we must 
end, as history proves, in a military despotism. A democratic 
republic, all agree, can not long survive unless sustained by 
public virtue. AVhcn this is corrupted, and the people become 
venal, there is a canker at the root of the tree of liberty which 
will cause it to wither and to die." 

For the utterance of truths like these, and as if to prove, 
without intending it, and by a very round-about method, that 
they are truths, although unpalatable, Mr. Buchanan has been 
held up to ridicule by his party opponents, condemned as an 
" old fogy," and proclaimed to be too slow for the age in which 
he lives. But if corruption have attained its present growth 
with a population so scant, in a country by the cultivation of 
which ten times the number could live honestly and independ- 
ently, if they trusted to hard work, and not to intrigue, for the 
means of subsistence, what will be the extent of corruption 
fifty years hence? Shall a despotism attempt a remedy worse 
than the disease ? Or will the patient be warned of the evil 
of his ways, and amend his life in time ? But if these may 
be considered the views of a Pessimist, what shall the Opti- 
mist make of the picture ? Grant that no foreign war brings 
into the field a European coalition against the United States 
— a coalition that would infallibly make the Americans a feir 
more warlike people than they are, and compel them to turn 
their thoughts to pipe-clay and the rifle, and to the admiration 
of generals rather than of statesmen and orators ; grant, also, 
that public virtue becomes of the true republican standard of 
ancient days, pure gold without alloy ; grant, moreover, that 
slavery is peaceably abolished, or dies out and ceases to trouble 
the men of the twentieth century, is there no danger to the 



324 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

cdlu'sion ofUio Ihiiijii, rosiiltiiig i-iiliri-Iy iVoiu lis physical niag- 
iiitiule ? It is not. likely cither by lair means or by loul to an- 
nex Canada, lor the Canadians feel that they have a destiny 
of their own to accomplish, and that they start without the 
<i;reat burden of .slavery to impede their i)i'ogress ; but the 
United States will certainly annex to themselves all the mori- 
bund republics between Texas and I'unama, including, of 
course, the whole of INIexico. The Union already extends to 
the shores of the Pacific, though the intervening spaces are 
not lilled up. It lakes a re|)ri>sentative for California three 
limes as long to reach Washiugtou as it takes a NeW'Yoi'ker 
or a IJostonian to visit Liverpool, London, or Paris. Is there 
no danger in this ? Is not the prospective unwieldincss of the 
Tlnlon a reason why it may be exi)ected to break up into com- 
partments a little more manageable, and resolve itself into at 
least three or four federations instead of one t The time may 
come when the New England States, weary of participating 
in the slavery which they can not abolish, may seek to effect 
a legislative union with Canada; when New York and the 
JMiddle and AVestern States may form another constellation 
of republics ; and when the South, extending to Panama, may 
cultivate its " domestic institution" and cotton at the same 
time, defying North or AVcst, or tlie whole world to trouble it; 
and Avlicn California and the other connnon wealths on the Pa- 
cific sea-board, from mere considerations of distance and local- 
ity, may set up in business for themselves. That such a result 
would be injurious to the cause of liberty and progress in tho 
United States, there is not the slightest reason to believe. On 
the contrary, by diminishing the chances of collision, by segre- 
gating the incongruities caused by climate, character, and edu- 
cation into related but not identical systems ; and by render- 
ing the prizes within the reach of military ambition less glit- 
tering and valuable than tliey would otherwise be, it is possible 
that the pacific dissolution of the Union, for reasons as cogent 
and as unimpassioncd as these, would be greatly for the advan- 
tage of the Anglo-Saxon races in America. A binaiy, trinaiy, 
or (]uadrinary system of reimblics, having the same language, 
litci-ature, laws, and religion, might preserve their identity as 



THE FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES. 325 

republics, and yet be able to o.sta))liHli aixl consolidate among 
tliemsclvcs a balance of [)0wer, l)y ineaiiH of wliicli no one of 
the number could, under any circumstances, be permitted to 
declare war against another, just in the same way as, by the 
present Constitution of the United States, Maine can not de- 
clare war against Louisiana, Maryland against Ohio, or New 
York against Oregon; or, as. in England, Kent can not take 
the law into its own hands to remedy any grievance it miglit 
chance to have against Pembroke or Merioneth. So far from 
the indivisibility and inviolability of the Union tending to the 
hap[)iiu;s3 or advancement of the race by whose energy and 
enterprise it has been cstaljlished, it would seem, on the con- 
trary, as if its very bulk would lead it into mischief, independ- 
ently of those other causes of evil which wise and prudent 
statesmanship, looking beyond to-day at the possibilities of to- 
morrow, may endeavor to remove. The United States of 
America are but the first step in a great progression, of which 
the next may be the " United Kcpublics of America." Why 
not ? And yet it is vain to ask, for the present age can give no 
answer to the inquiry. But the men of the present age may, 
at all events, V>c allowed to calculate the chances of the next ; 
and that tliis is one of the most important of them, no one 
who looks intelligently at the actual condition of Christendom 
can permit himself to doubt. 



CANADA. 

ClIAPTEK XXXVIL 

FKOM ALB.VNY TO MONTREAL. 

April, 1858. 
Fkoji Albany to IMontrcal, the commercial metropolis of 
the Canadas, is a ride of 25-i miles ; a long distance if meas- 
ured by time, foi* the express trains upon American railways, 
so far from equaling the speed attained in England, seldom 
average more than twenty miles an hour. Leaving Albany 
late in the afternoon, our train halted, after having made nine- 
ty miles, at llutland, in Vermont, where the passengers had 
to sleep for the night. In this distance an incident occurred, 
of no particular importance in itself, but interesting to a stran- 
ger and worth recording, as showing the free-and-easy man- 
)ier in which some public affairs are managed in America, and 
how much more of a leveling institution the railway is some- 
times made to be in the New AVorld than it ever can be in 
the Old. I had taken my place in the car at the extreme 
end, where there is but room for one person on the seat, but 
Avith accommodation opposite for two. A traveler shortly 
afterward deposited his overcoat upon one of these seats to 
retain possession. In about three minutes afterward a stout, 
burly personage entered the car, leading in a white man and 
a negro, fettered, and manacled together. This Avas the first 
time during my travels in the States that I had ever observed 
a colored man in a public vehicle. Approaching my place, 
the burly individual in charge, whom I supposed to be a con- 
stable, but Avho called himself the sheriff, coolly threw upon 
the floor the coat left by the intending traveler, and directed 
his white and black prisoners to take possession of the two 



FROM ALBANY TO MONTREAL. 327 

seats. I told him that one of tlic scats was engaged. "I 
can't help that," lie replied ; " it's doubly engaged now by my 
prisoners." Not desirous of such close pi-oximity either to a 
white or a black felon, I looked around the car in search of 
more agreeable accommodation, but all the seats were filled, 
llesolving to make the best of a disagreeable business, I took 
refuge in the perusal of a book, and hoped that 1 should soon 
be relieved from such uncomfortaljle companionship by the ar- 
rival of the captives at their place of destination. 

" What have these chaps been a doin', sheriff?" said a trav- 
eler to me, turning liis quid in his mouth. 

" I am not the sheriff," 1 replied. " If I were, I think I 
should travel with my prisoners somewhere else than in the 
public can-iage." 

" Well, it a'n't pleasant," he rejoined, " especially when one 
of 'em's a nigger. What have you been a doia' on, Sambo V 
he added, turning suddenly to the negro. 

" NufFin at all, massa," was the reply. " I'm innocent, and 
did nufhn, and am got two years for it." 

The white prisoner made no observation ; and, the real 
sheriff making his appearance at this moment, my interlocutor 
assailed him with a cannonade of inquiries, and elicited the 
whole of the circumstances. The white man — a well-formed 
youth, scarcely twenty years of age, with a countenance by no 
means unprepossessing — had committed a desperate highway 
robbery, and, after having nearly killed a man, had rifled him 
of all his money, amounting to no more than seventy-five cents, 
or three shillings. For this crime he had been sentenced to 
ten years' imprisonment. The negro had been implicated, 
with a woman of bad character, in robbing a sailor of thirty 
dollars, and had been sentenced to two years' imprisonment. 
The negro was loud in his complaints of the injustice of his 
punishment, but the white man refused to enter into any con- 
versation upon the subject ; not because he was dogged or ob- 
stinate, but apparently because he knew that his sentence was 
just, and that the less he said about it the less there Avould be 
of hypocrisy in his behavior. He was exceedingly gracious 
to his black companion, and several times took a large cake 



328 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

of clicw'inj^-tobacco ovit of a side-pocket of his coiit und ofFerctl 
it to the iiogi-o. The two chewed together in sympathy of 
sorrow, and contributed quite as larg(!ly as any two freemen 
present — perhaps a little more so — to the copious saliva upon 
tlie iloor. The "sheriff," in this tespcct, kept them company, 
and condescended to accept from the highwayman the luxury 
of a chaw. 

" Will he have any of that in prison ?" I inquired. 

" No, poor devil !" said the sheriff; and, as if that were 
the most grievous part of Lis sentence, " no, not for ten 
years." 

Next morning, on starting from Rutland for Montreal, I 
secured a seat at a distance from the officer of the law and 
his prisoners, and saw no more of them. Our train sped 
near or through the cities of Vcrgennes, Burlington, and St. 
Albans, and amid the beautiful scenery of the Green Mount- 
ains. The weather, thougli it was the second week of April, 
Avas exceedingly cold, and the tops and slopes of the Green 
Mountains were covered with snow ; but in the valleys the 
neat white cottages and villas, and still neater white churches 
of the descendants of the ancient Puritans, built of wood, but 
painted to imitate stone, gleamed cheerily in the sunshine. 
But the farther north we went the thicker lay the snow; 
and, on arriving at the shores of Lake Champlain, not one of 
the largest, but perhaps the most beautiful of all the American 
lakes, we saw innumerable blocks of floating ice upon the 
water. From Whitehall, at its southei-n extremity, where it 
is no wider than a river, to House's Point, at its northern term- 
ination. Lake Champlain extends for nearly 150 miles. In 
some parts it is twenty miles in width, and in other parts 
varies from one mile to ten or twelve. In the summer it is] 
traversed by numerous fine steam-boats, but at this early- 
period of the year they had not commenced their trips, and 
the only mode of conveyance was the dreary rail and the suf- 
focating car. Before arriving at Kouse's Point the rails 
cross Lake Champlain twice, the transit on each occasion af- 
fording to the passengers magnificent views over its beautiful 
expanse. 



FROM ALBANY TO MONTREAL. 329 

At Rouse's Point I took my farewell of the territory of the 
United States, and entered into the dominions of her majesty 
Queen Victoria. This iini)ortant station ought to have be- 
longed to Canada, and would have done so if Lord Ashburton, 
dispatched by our government in 184G to settle the Oregon 
and Maine l>oundaries, then in dispute between the two na- 
tions, had been any thing like a match in intellect, in dexter- 
ity, in logic, or in purpose to the astute lawyer, Daniel Web- 
ster, against whom he was pitted. But the British lord, half 
an American in heart, and perhaps allied too closely to the 
trading interests of the great house of Jiaring Brothers to see 
tilings in their true light as regarded cithci" Great Britain or 
Canada, was of no more account than a piece of red tape or a 
stick to be whittled in the hands of the gi'cat Yankee lawyer 
and orator. Not only Kouse's I'oint — a place of great stra- 
tegical importance — but the larger portion of the State of 
Maine, and with it the free access of Canadian traffic to the 
ocean in mid- winter, when the St. Lawrence is closed up by 
the ice, were thus lost to Canada, and all because Great 
Jiritain, ignorant of Canada and of its vast importance, sent 
a good-natured and incompetent lord to make himself agree- 
able to Brother Jonathan, and settle a business which neither 
he nor the home government understood any thing al)out, ex- 
cept that it was troublesome. Let all true Englisiimen fer- 
vently pray that war between tlie United States and Great 
Britain will never arise to make the Canadians rue the day 
when their interests were so grossly sacrificed l>y a man who 
knew so little about tliem, and by a government that scarcely 
deserved to retain so sj)lendid a colony. 

From House's Point the rail stretches to the Canadian vil- 
lage of Caughnawaga, on the St. Lawrence. This village is 
Inhabited wholly by the Indian tribe that forms almost the 
sole remnant of the once-powerful Iro(|uois. These Indians, 
Avho have a strong family reseml)lance to the Gif)sies of 
Europe, and who pretend to tell fortunes in the same manner 
])y palmistry, are the sole recognized pilots of the Rapids. 
To llio emoluments wliich ihc.y derive from this soiu'ce they 
iidd the profits gained by the manufacture of moccasins, leg- 



330 LIFE AND LIBEETY IN AMERICA. 

gins, bead purses, and other fancy work, in wliicli their ■women 
more particularly excel. Here our passengers had to leave 
the rail and embark on the steamer to cross the St. Lawrence 
to Lachine. This place is situated near the celebrated Kapids 
of the same name. Here the loud cry of "All aboord!" — 
universal in America — summoned us to take our places once 
more in the railway cars ; and, after a journey of some miles, 
we arrived at the venerable, picturesque, and flourishing city 
of Montreal. 

In the United States the towns are so much alike in their 
architectural and general appearance as to cease very speedi- 
ly to have much interest for the traveler beyond that inspired 
by history, or by the remembrance of the kind friends who 
reside in them. The only prominent exceptions within the 
compass of my experience were New Orleans and Boston — 
far apart, it is true, but suggesting reminiscences of Europe, 
either by the crooked picturesqueness of their streets, or, as 
in New Orleans, by the foreign names and costume of the peo- 
ple, and the style of building, l^ut Montreal combines, to 
European eyes, all these sources of interest, and has features 
of its own which give it a character quite distinct from that 
of any other place on the American continent except Quebec. 
Let me not be accused of narrowness of mind and sympathy, 
or of an undue and unwarrantable feeling of nationality, if I 
avow that I experienced a sensation of pride and satisfaction, 
after a six months' tour in a country where I was made to 
feel that I was a " foreigner," on once again setting my foot 
upon British territory, upon seeing the familiar standard of 
England floating from the public buildings, and noticing the 
well-known red coats of the British soldiers who were doing 
duty in the streets. To pass from House's Point to Canadian 
soil was like crossing the Atlantic in the difference which it 
made in my patriotic sentiments — or prejudices, if they de- 
serve the latter name. I felt almost as much at home in Mon- 
treal as if I had landed in Liverpool. To rac the Canadians 
were Englishmen, not Americans. And one of the most no- 
ticeable things in Canada, with which a stranger can scarce- 
ly fail to be impressed before he has been a Aveek in the coun- 



FROM ALBANY TO MONTREAL. 331 

try, is not exactly the antipathy, but the estrangement which 
lias sprung up between the people of the United States and 
those of the British possessions. During the last .twenty 
years the line of moral and political demarkation between the 
two seems to have been gradually lengthened and strengthen- 
ed. The explanation is, that the less heavily the yoke of the 
mother country has been allowed to bear upon the colony, the 
more affectionately the colony has clung to the old land, from 
whose best blood she has sprung, and by whose gentle exam- 
ple she is governed. So far from expressing a desire for an- 
nexation to or incorporation with the United States, the Ca- 
nadians insist in the most fervid manner upon their separate 
and irreconcilable nationality. Not unfrequently, when hard 
driven by ultra-Republican orators of the "Spread Eagle" 
school, they declai-e it to be far more probable, if ever a split 
take place in the Union, or a war break out betwixt the 
United States and Great Britain, that Vermont, Maine, Con- 
necticut, Ehode Island, and Massachusetts will claim incorpo- 
ration with the Canadas, than that the Canadas will claim in- 
corporation with the Republic of the Stars and Stripes, and 
so inherit the heavy responsibilities of slavery, without deriv- 
ing any real advantage from association with the North. 
When an overzealous American so far forgets his manners as 
to talk of annexation in the company of Canadians, the reply 
not unfrequently takes the somewhat contemptuous turn that 
the Hudson is the natural boundary of Canada, and that, if 
annexation be cither necessary or desirable, Canada may some 
day take the initiative, and seize upon Maine and the harbor 
of Portland. I have witnessed more than one Yankee so 
taken aback at the daring of the suggestion as to give up the 
struggle without any farther parley, except, perhaps, between 
two chaws or two whiffs, such slang phrase as " I guess that's 
coming it strong — rayther !" or "Brother Jonathan's not 
green enough to be done." 

Montreal, generally pronounce'd Montre-all, is one of the 
most ancient cities of North America, having been founded in 
the year 1642. It contains a population of about 70,000. 
It is beautifully and solidly built of stone, and wears a general 



332 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

ulr and aspect of strength befitting tlic climate. By the 
F]-cncli Konian Catholics, who form nearly one half of the 
population, it is called affectionately the "Ville Marie," or 
town of tlie Virgin Mary, and the names of its principal 
streets, derived from those of the saints in the Romish calen- 
dar, bear witness alike to the fervency and to the faith of its 
founders. The original Indian name, or rather that of the 
village on the site of which it is built, was Ilochclaga, a name 
still given to it by poets, and by orators who desire to speak 
grandiloquently. Its French and British name of Montreal 
is derived from that of the large island in the St. Lawrence, 
on the southern base of which it is built, and in English ought 
properly to be Mount Eoyal. Its gray limestone embank- 
ments on the St. Lawrence — its long, substantial quays and 
wharves — its noble cathedral with the two tall towers (the 
most imposing -looking ecclesiastical edifice on the North 
Amei'ican continent, unless Mexico offer exceptions) — its 
stately Market-hall of Bon Secours, a pi-omincnt object either 
in near or remote views of the city — its elegant public edifices, 
baidvs, nunneries, monasteries, and churches — and, above all, 
the Victoria Tubular Bridge, the most gigantic work of science 
and enterprise on the habitable globe — all combine to render 
Montreal cither important or picturesque, and to give it an 
enduring place in the memory of all who visit it. 

The island of Montreal, or the Royal Mountain, is about 
thirty miles long, and in some parts eight or nine wide, and 
rises in the centre to a height of about 900 feet. It has been 
called from its fertility the Garden of Canada, but 'whether 
the compliment be deserved is matter of dispute among scien- 
tific agriculturists. Against the northern shore of the island 
beats the strong and turbid current of the Ottawa ; and against 
the southern shore, where Montreal rears its busy streets, 
rushes the stronger and clearer current of the St. Lawrence. 
Tiiese powerful streams unite about eighteen miles westward 
of the city, but refuse to connninglc their waters until they 
have traveled beyond the mountain isle in their progress to- 
ward Quebec. The bases of the mountain are gradually beuig 
occupied by the houses and villas of the wealthier inhabitants 



FROM ALBANY TO MONTREAL. 333 

of Montreal. In lioscniounl — one of these — It \v;is iny good 
fortune to enjoy for three weeks the generous hospitality of 
the lion. John Young, late one of the representatives of Mont- 
real in the Canadian Parliament, and Minister of rublic 
Works, and to obtain through his good oiriccs a greater in- 
sight into the real condition of Canada, and of the city of 
Montreal, than I could have procured without such aid in a 
much longer sojourn in the country. The view above Kose- 
mount, toward the summit of the mountain, stretches over a 
wide exj)anse of fertile country, and away to tlie Green Hills 
of Vermont and the State of New York, the St. Lawrence 
rolling its majestic tide through the valley, and sounding a 
music from the llapids of Lacliine, nine miles distant, far louder 
than the roar and rumble of tlie adjoining city. Its carrying 
and forwarding trade, as a port conii)etiiig with New York for 
the European commerce of the Far West, constitutes the prin- 
cipal business of Montreal. As such it possesses few manu- 
factures ; but it has a growing trade in potash and pearlash, 
and one more recently established in those luxuries — so dear 
to the Anglo-Saxon — bitter ale and porter. Its average ex- 
ports of potash and pearlash amount to about £300,000 per 
annum ; and in the year 1857 they reached £400,000. The 
farmers in the back woods, and in newly-cleared or half-clear- 
ed lands, add considerably to their resources by tlie sale of this 
portion of their produce. For the testing of the strength of 
these two valuable commodities, inspectors are appointed by 
the government. 15y the courtesy of one of these gentlemen, 
I was shown over the establisliment whence all this agricul- 
tural weallli is distributed over the world, and initiated for 
the first time into the previously unsuspected mysteries of 
burnt timber and boiled ashes. 

The brcwcr}'^ and distillery recently established at Montreal, 
where there are no excisemen to interfere with the manufac- 
ture and increase the cost of the articles, arc under the super- 
intendence of proprietors who learned the mysteries of their 
art in London and Burton-upon-Trent, and who have suc- 
ceeded in producing bitter ales far superior to the lager beer 
of the United States, and almost, if not quite, equal to the ales 
of MoBsrs. Bass or Allsop. 



m 



LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



Miicli has been done of late years to develop the capabilities 
of the harbor of Montreal, and when the ^*ictoria Tubular 
Bridge — already the pride and chief ornament of the city — 
shall have been opened for the traffic of the Grand Trunk 
Eaihvay. it Avill become, to a larger extent than it is at pres- 
ent, the rival of New York and Boston. The idea of bridging 
the St. Lawrence Eiver at Montreal is of older date than is 
generally known. The Honorable John Young was, perhaps, 
the most zealous and luitiring in his endeavors to bring the 
subject prominently before the world. ]\Iorc than one engi- 
neer of eminence in America was referred to and consulted by 
him before any steps were taken to bring the subject before 
the public. Surveys, examinations, and various reports re- 
sulted from these — differing, of course, somcAvhat in their de- 
tails, but generally recommending timber structures similar to 
those invariably resorted to in the United States for bridging 
the great rivers. Nothing in connection with the Tubular 
Bridge had ripened into maturity until the project of the 
Grand Trunk Kailway had been propoimded and urged on by 
the provincial government in 1852. The Honorable Francis 
Hincks (being then prime minister and inspector-general of 
Canada) and Mv. Young (being at the same time a member of 
his administration), after several fruitless endeavors to interest 
the iiuperial government to aid in furthering their objects, 
which had in view the accomplishment of an international 
railway, extending fi*om Halifax to the western extremity of 
Canada, ultimately resolved to invite private English capital- 
ists to undertake the great work of the Grand Trunk Railway 
in so far, at least, as Canada was concerned. For this pur- 
pose the province undertook to provide thirty per cent, of the 
capital required, and Avith this impetus the Grand Trunk 
Railway assumed in due time the proportions of a palpable 
and beneficial fact. 

In July, 1853, Mr. Stephenson, the engineer, visited Canada 
for the pui'pose of finally fixing the most eligible site, and de- 
termining the dimensions and general character of the Tubu- 
lar Bridge ; and, having connnunicated his ideas to INIr. A. M. 
Ross, who, in accordance with them, prepared and ai'ranged 




i> 


lili.V, ' ■■ 




l, 


: , f i'lllj. 


ip 



!' , evil U% i, M%-,^=MmSL' 



r} 




i 




TO THE TOP OF BEL CEIL, 337 

ull the information required, the result, in a very little time, 
wuH the adoption of the structure now far advanced to com- 
pletion, and which promiHCS to be the frreutcst triiimpli of en- 
gineering skill of which either the Old World or the New can 
boast. 



CIIArTER XXXVIII. 

TO THE TOP OF EEL GEIL. 

Montreal. 
Looking southward from Rose Mount, on the sunny slope 
of the great hill of Montreal, the most consi)icuous object in 
tlie distant landscape is the mountain of Bel (Kii, commonly, 
but erroneously called Bel Isle. To scale its heights, and 
•visit the lake near its summit, was an expedition which I fan- 
cied might be easily performed on foot, and back again in one 
day. The idea was no sooner mentioned than scouted ])y my 
excellent host. Near though the mountain looked, its appar- 
ent proximity was the effect of the pure Canadian atmosphere 
upon the eyes of one not accustomed to measure distances 
through sucli a transparent medium. Instead of being no 
more than nine or ten miles from the city of Montreal, as I 
had calculated, the nearest point of approach to Bel O'^il was 
at the railway station of St. llilairc, seventeen miles from 
Longueil, on the opposite shore of the 8t. Lawrence, The 
river itself being nearly two miles wide, and Rose Mount be- 
ing two miles from the Montreal shore, the distance to St, 
Ililaire was, according to all methods of computation, Euro- 
pean or American, twenty-one miles. From St. Ililaire to 
the centre of Bel (Eil was nine miles more, or thirty altogether 
from point to point. Thus it was clearly out of the question 
to make the excursion on foot. Thirty miles out and thirty 
miles in, even if we had taken two days to the excursion, were 
too many for pleasure. But the difficulty was overcome, as 
most difficulties may be, by a little management. The Grand 
Trunk Railway of Canada kindly j)laced a special train to 
and from St. Ililaire at our disposal, and our party of three, 

P 



338 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Mr. Young, Mr. Andrew Robertson, solicitor and barrister (for 
legal gentlemen combine both branches of the law in the United 
States and the colonies), and myself, started to dine al fresco 
on the top of the mountain. The weather was propitious, 
and Canada is not in this respect like the Old Country. When 
a day begins favorably it ends favorably in ninety-nine in- 
stances out of a hundred, so that a preconcerted picnic is not 
likely to be disturbed in Canada, as it is almost certain to be 
in any part of the British Isles. 

Our hamper, thanks to the provident thouglitfulness and 
liberal reckoning up of our wants, which only a kindly-hearted 
woman could have so well appreciated, was abundantly stored 
with bread, biscuits, cheese, sandwiches, tongue, chickens, and 
beef, besides pale ale, pale brandy, Chanxpagne, and Sparkling 
Catawba. Not the smallest minutite were forgotten. Even 
tumblers, salt, and a corkscrew were included in the reper- 
tory. We had to cross the St. Lawrence in a wherry, with 
two oarsmen, for it was a holiday, and the only morning 
steamer across to Longueil had taken its departure an hour 
before we were ready. It is only necessary to say of the pas- 
sage across that we had to make it diagonally, and so to double 
the distance, to allow for the strength and rapidity of the 
current ; and that any one who should advise a future traveler 
to miss the steam ferry-boat for the chance of any pleasure 
derivable from this more primitive method of passing the great 
river, would be a mauvais farceur and a false friend. Arrived 
at Longueil, we found the steam up and our train ready, and 
in less than three quarters of an hour were safely deposited at 
St. Hilaire, at the base of the mountain which loomed large 
before us, and promised us from its steep top a prospect to be 
enjoyed, and an appetite to be earned by hard exercise. Both 
of these blessings were duly appreciated at their appointed sea- 
son. The road lay all the way from Longueil through the 
flats of the St. Lawrence, and of its tributaiy the Richelieu, 
the northern outlet of Lake Champlain. The country is as 
level as Lincolnshire, and so thickly studded with farms and 
villages as to look as if it maintained a population of at least 
half a million. But these appearances are deceptive. The 



TO THE TOP OF BEL CEIL, 839 

subdivision of the land, each family on its own plot, with the 
house ill the centre, gives the idea of a population twenty times 
denser than it is ; and the soil itself, a hard clay, has been im- 
poverished and well-nigh exhausted of what original fertility 
it ever possessed by the bad farming of the habitans, conse- 
quent upon the perpetual parceling and reparceling of the 
land, and the non-employment of either capital or science to 
renew its over-taxed capabilities. It is Old France repeated 
over again in New France. The ignorant husbandry ; the 
unwise attachment to the paternal nest, or pig-hole, as the 
case may be, in preference to better spots of earth at a hund- 
red, fifty, or even twenty miles distance ; and a limpet-like 
contentment with poor diet, and the enjoyment of the good 
that Fate and Chance provide on the original rock, in prefer- 
ence to a greater good to be found afar off, all seem to com- 
bine to keep the country poor, and to prove the ineradicable 
tendencies of race and religion. Of late years there has been 
a slight improvement, a few Scotch and English farmers hav- 
ing found their way into the valley, and introduced a better 
system of husbandry. But, owing to the smallness of the 
farms, and their constant tendency to grow smaller from gen- 
eration to generation, the good example has not been of the 
efficacy that might have been expected under other circum- 
.stanceai*5 yet, superficially considered, a congeries of happier- 
looking communities than those which occupy the valley of 
the Richelieu is not easily to be found. Socialism without 
communism ; contentment willing to sink rather than exert 
itself; a poor lot on earth cheered by the hope of a happier 
lot in heaven — such seem the characteristics of the place, and 
of the good, docile, honest, and amiable people. Their great 
defect is that they lack above all things what the homely 
Scotch proverb calls " a spice of the devil in them to keep the 
devil out." 

Arrived at St. Hilaire, our first difficulty was how we should 
manage to carry our provisions to the top of the mountain. 
The road was rough, steep, circuitous, and long ; and though 
the crest of Bel Q^^il seemed but two miles off, it was, in real- 
ity, near upon nine. To carry the provender ourselves would 



340 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

have been to make too mucli toil of a f=rmall pleasure, and a 
stout guide fit for the duty, and Avilling to undertake it upon 
a saint's day and a holiday, was not easily to be found in a 
.country whei'e such festivals were highly venerated and great- 
ly enjoyed. After neai'ly an hour's inquiry we heard of an 
old farmer who had a cart and a pony, who would drive up 
as for as the lake — an ancient Jean Baptiste, as Norman in 
his dress, his speech, his aspect, and his ideas as if we had 
fallen in with liim in one of the remote villages beyond Rouen 
or Caen. But Ave took him and were glad of him, not for the 
sake of our legs, for we preferred walking to riding, but for 
the sake of the provisions, which we could not otherwise con- 
vey. Besides, his pony was lame, and his cart had no springs ; 
and so, by walking, we were not only merciful to his beast, 
but to our own bones. The road skirted the basis of the 
hill, and the ascent was gradual for three or four miles, in the 
course of which Ave passed a great number of small but com- 
fortable-looking farm-houses, many gardens and orchards, prin- 
cipally of apple-trees, bearing the famous 2'>oinmes griscs of 
Canada. We also passed many groves of Avild maple, the 
finest trees by the road-side, having each the Avell-knoAvn 
AA'ounds, and the rude trough on the ground to catch the juice 
that floAvs in the early spring Avhen they are tapped, and of 
which the habitans manufacture a very excellent s%ar for 
home consumption. Indeed, in most of the Northern and 
AYestern States of the Union and throughout Canada, the 
maple is extensively used for this purpose, and is not only 
one of the most abundant and useful, but most beautiful trees 
of the country. It is loAely alike in spring, summer, and 
autumn. In autumn more especially it gloAvs and glitters 
AA'ith its gold and crimson leaves, illuminated by the first 
touch of frost, and lights up the Avliole landscape Avith a gloiy 
of color unknoAA'n in Europe. 

Leaving Jean Baptiste, his cart, his pony, our hamper, and 
tAVO dogs, AA'hich had persisted in folloAving us all the AA^ay 
from St. Uilaire, to aAvait our return on the shore of tlie lake, 
Ave started alone throtigh the pine woods for about a mile and 
a half to the summit of the mountain. The lake, Avhich is 



TO THE TOP OF BEL CEIL. 341 

about two miles in circumference, and discliarges its overflow 
in a small brook that runs down the side of the mountain to- 
ward St. Ililaire, fills the hollow of what seems to have once 
been the crater of a volcano, and, though shallow on its banks, 
is said to be of great depth in the centx'C, and to abound with 
very excellent trout. 

The grass had not begun to show itself, and tlierc were 
considerable drifts and wreaths of snow in the pine woods and 
in the shaded recesses of the hills, but in tlie glades where the 
sunshine could penetrate, and wherever tliere was a southern 
aspect, the anemones were peeping out among the pine spiculse 
and the dead leaves of the last autumn. As we clomb higlicr 
and higher, we left the pine woods behind us for the bare, 
hard rock, and at last stood upon the wind-beaten summit of 
Bel iFAl. Here, in the clear sunshine, we indulged our eyes 
with a goodly prospect. We were in the centre of a circle 
of at least 100 miles in diameter, and could sec on the far 
horizon a majestic panorama of a thousand hills, the indented 
rim of the great basin, in the hollow of which pierced up 
our mountain top, a solitaiy cone. To the south and west 
stretched the green hills of Vermont, and the higher peaks of 
Lake Cham];)lain ; and to the north and cast the long Lau- 
rentian range which forms the only bulwark between Lower 
Canada and the polar blasts that sweep from Hudson's Bay 
and the Arctic Circle. The broad St. Lawrence wound its 
way through the prospect like a river of gold, joined by the 
Richelieu, a smaller but equally bi-illiant thread in the mazy 
web of beauty. Montreal, with the twin towers of its cathe- 
dral, and the tin roofs and spires of its numerous churches 
and ecclesiastical buildings, glittered like a fairy city at the 
base of its own mountain, while at every point in the nearer 
prospect on which the eye happened to rest might be caught 
the shimmer of a tin-covered spiie, and underneath and around 
it a village, seemingly no larger than a wasp's nest or an ant- 
hill. It seemed from that height, looking over a country 
rather bare of trees, that here was the abode of a civilization 
as ancient as that of China, and that the pojtulatiou in those 
countless hamlets, boui'gs, and villages, too numerous to sub- 



842 • LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

sist only by agriculture, iiiusL have long ago had recourse to 
trade and manufactures to provide themselves with the moans 
of subsistence. IJut the standard of living is not every where 
so high as in our bread, beef, and beer consuming England. 
The French Canadian can live happily on a diet upon which 
an Englishman would either starve or become a Ked J\epub- 
lican. But if the Englishman can conquer the world ujjon 
his high diet, he does not always conquer that which is still 
better — as all })liilosophcrs inform us — a contented mind. 

Kellections connected with man or his works were, how- 
ever, not those Avhich were predominant in my mind after the 
first impression of the scene had worn away. As I stood on 
the mountain top, looking up and down the course of the St. 
Lawrence, I could not refrain from carrying my imagination 
back to the day when the peak of Bel (Eil was a small island 
in the middle of as large a lake as Ontario, and Avhen that 
great system of inland seas, commencing at Superior, and 
ending with Ontario at the Thousand Isles, extended to Que- 
bec ; when the Falls of Niagara did not exist, and when the 
level of Lake Erie was the level of the waters all the way to 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 

It is scarcely possible to look down from Bel CEil upon the 
immense Hat alluvial basin from which it rises in solitary 
grandeur without coming to the conclusion that, at an early 
period in the history of our planet, the Laurcntian range on 
the one side, and the hills of Lake Champlain and Vermont 
on the other, were the landward barriers of a lake nearly 300 
miles in length and seventy or eighty in breadth, and of which 
the shores all round were on the level of Goat Island at the 
Falls of Niagara. 

After descending from the crest of the hill, and winding 
our way back through the pine woods to the lake, at the 
shores of which wo had left our car, we found Jean Baptisto 
keeping watch and ward over our provisions. We selected a 
sheltered spot for our picnic on Ihe bank of the little stream 
that carries the overflow to the valley, and here having spread 
our cloth and unpacked our hamper, wo commenced opera- 
tions. A few strairglcrs gathered about us to learn what wo 



TO THE TOP OF BEL CRTL. 843 

were f!;oin<f to do ; but wlicn tlicy saw the .soleniiiity and im- 
porturicc of the business tliat was to o(:cu|)y us, they politely 
withdrew, and Jean Baptiste along with tiiein. Not so the 
two dogs which had followed us from St. liilaij-e. They 
knew by a sense keener than that of sight that there were 
fowls and beef in the hamper, and wcic contented to take 
their chance of the bones if nothing bettor ollercd. Neither 
of these animals understood a word of English, but their com- 
prehension of French was perfect. 'J'he one of them was tol- 
ei'ably well fed, and manifested his contempt of bread and 
biscuit by a perfect immobility of every part of his Itody, hiji 
tail excepted, whi<'Ji wagged, "iVo/t, ^'e vous remercic,^'' (juite as 
intelligibly as a tongue could have spoken it. The other dog 
had not only no contempt for bread, but an insatial)lc love of 
it. To him bread or bai-e Ixjne was alike acceptal)lc. lie 
was as lean as if he had tasted nothing for a month, and his 
behavior during our repast, contrasted with that of his com- 
panion, afforded us an amount of amusement greater than any 
farce ujjon the stage could have given us. To throw a piece 
of bread into the stream, and to see the lean dog leap after it 
and chase it down the current, while the fiit dog looked on 
with philosoi)hit contempt ; to throw him the skeleton of a 
fowl, and see him gulp bone after bone with one sharp and 
decisive crunch, as if it had been firm flesh ; and to give him 
a piece more than usually lai-gc, and watch him jinnp with it 
over the stream, and retire into a corner under a tree, about 
twenty yards off, to devour it in the seclusion of private life, 
were but a few of the varieties of recreation which the good 
dog afforded us, his companifm all the while looking at him 
with lazy but undisguised contempt. JJut the crowning ab- 
surdity, at which we laughed till the tears actually trickled 
down our cheeks, was when, in despair of satisfying the crav- 
ings of the animal by any thing smaller than a half quartern 
loaf, we solemnly presented liiin with that article lincut. lie 
eyed it for a moment wistfully, and then suddenly turning 
round with a low howl of sorrow, mingled with indignation, 
that he should be so insulted, leaped over the stream, and 
took his station within sight, but far off, where he barked and 



3M LIFE AND LIBERTY IN" AMERICA. 

howled as if his heart -were broken. We whistled to him and 
called to him in vain. His pride was hurt, lie Avas not to 
be soothed or conciliated. At last we threw him half the leg 
of a fowl as a poace-ortering. lie accepted it, and came back 
to us gayly, as if nothing had happened. Three or four small 
slices of bread were next given to him and taken, when, as an 
experiment upon his canine natui-e, Ave for the second time 
presented him with a whole loaf. The result was the same 
as before, lie was offended at the idea that we should con- 
sider him so gluttonous as to accept it, and bounded off with 
a reproachful moan to his former place of penitence and se- 
clusion, where he howled dolefully, and refused to be com- 
forted even by the wing of a chicken. 

Jean Ixiptiste shook his head. "You have given that dog 
food enough in one day to last a man for a week ;" and as 
he himself up to this time had had no share in the repast, his 
criticism was doubtless intended as a reminder, ^yhether or 
not, it was so received. Joan Baptiste had his full share of 
the solid contents of our hamper, and half a bottle of Cham- 
pagne to boot — a liquor which he declared he had never tasted 
before. When told that it came from France, he held up his 
withered hands and exclaimed, 

"Ze chcr 2)ays ! que je ne veiTai jamais .'" lie begged to be 
allowed to keep the empty bottles as souvenirs of our excur- 
sion, and especially the bottle that had come from France. 
"That," said he, "shall have the place of honor on my man- 
tel-shelf, la has a St. Hilairc'" 

And so Ave returned as Ave came, the two dogs folloAving us 
to the village, and the lean one looking as lean as ever, frisk- 
ing sometimes before and sometimes behind, the happiest dog 
that day in all Christendom. 



THE ST. LAWKENCE. 345 



CHAl'TER XXXIX. 

THE ST. LAWKENCE. 

Forsaking the Grand Trunk Kailway for the Vjcautiful 
scenery of the St. Lawrence — most magnificent of all the riv- 
ers of North America — and having engaged our state-rooms 
on board the steamer Napoleon, we — that is, myself and Mr. 
Young — left that city for Quebec on a lovely afternoon in 
early May. In compliment to the French Canadians, whose 
sympathies with France are not yet utterly extinct, one of the 
two principal vessels on this line has been named the Napo- 
leon, after the Emperor of the French. The other, in compli- 
ment to their liego lady and mistress — under whose mild and 
beneficent sway they enjoy an infinitely greater amount of 
freedom than could ever have fiillen to their lot under the 
domination of their mother country, which, continually chang- 
ing its form of government from a limited monarchy to a lim- 
ited republicanism, and finally to an unlimited despotism, has 
always escaped what it most desired, a rational and well-de- 
fined liberty — has been named the Victoria. The Napoleon, on 
which we steamed, was an admirable boat ; and there being 
neither snags nor sawyers in the St. Lawrence, nor a reckless 
captain, and a still more reckless negro crew to work her, we 
had no such fears for our safety as those who travel on the 
Mississippi, the Alabama, or the Ohio must always entertain, 
more or less. From six o'clock, when we embarked, until 
midnight, when we turned into our berths, the time passed 
both pleasantly and profitably, for my companion knew all the 
intricacies, all the history, and all the beauty of the St. Law- 
rence, and had done more by his single energy to improve its 
navigation, deepen its shallows, and make it the first commer- 
cial river of the continent, than any other man in America. 
As we left Montreal, the tin-covered domes, steeples, and roofs 

P2 



346 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

of its catlicdrals, cburclies, convents, and monasteries gleamed 
brightly in the rays of the setting sun ; and when evening fell, 
as if by one stroke, upon the landscape, without the interven- 
tion of that lingering twilight to which Englishmen are ac- 
customed at home, the whole firmament was suddenly irradi- 
ated by the coruscations of the Aurora Borealis. It was so 
vivid in its brightness, and so rapidly changeful in its hues — 
from green to red, amber and purple, and back again through 
the whole gamut of color, that the scenery of the river was 
for a while eclipsed by the grander scenery of the skies. By 
that glorious light our voyage down the St. Lawrence became 
a kind of triumphal procession, in which the heavens as well 
as the earth and the waters seemed to bear their part. 

The Canadians on board paid no particular attention to the 
magnificence of the spectacle, which was doubtless too famil- 
iar to their eyes to excite the wonder and delight which it 
created in mine, that had never, in the more watery clime of 
England, beheld such splendor. It seemed as if the banners 
of eternity were waved in the clear blue firmament by angelic 
hands, and as if aerial hosts of seraphim and cherubim were 
doing battle in some great undefinable cause of liberty and 
right ; or perhaps — for imagination was unusually vagrant at 
the time, and roamed whither it pleased — these electric ebul- 
litions were but the tentaculie of the great Earth-Monster 
floating in the Ocean of Space, as the medusos float in the 
clear waters of the Western seas. Nay, might they not be 
the respirations of that sublime Mother and Bona Dea, upon 
whose epidermis man is but an insect, and his proudest works 
but the scraping and piling up of the exudations of her cuti- 
cle'? 

But after a time — for admii-ation, however great, requires 
novelty to feed upon — the sublime spectacle did not take such 
entire possession of the mind as to shut out altogether that of 
the majestic river on whose bosom we floated, nor cause us 
to forget that its never-changing current, rolling rapidly to the 
sea, was the drainage of the larger portion of a continent. 
The river, which is from a mile and a half to two miles wide, 
is studded with many islands, some of them large and fertile. 



THE ST. LAWRENCE. 347 

At every three leagues on either shore, in a prominent posi- 
tion, to be easily seen of all who pass up or down the river, 
is built a church of the well-known style of architecture so 
familiar to all who have ever traveled in France, the only dif- 
ference being the invariable tin spire or dome, which gives 
such peculiar picturesqueness to the ecclesiastical buildings of 
Canada. These churches indicate the religious zeal and piety 
of the French Roman Catholic colonists of early times, who 
made the most ample provision for the religion of the people 
when they first took jjossession of the country. They called 
it New France, and endowed the Church with broad lands 
and ample revenues, upon the model and example of old 
France, ere the plowshare of the Revolution passed over the 
land, half bui-ying the Church and wholly burying the aris- 
tocracy. The farms of the habitatis, and their neat white 
houses, are thickly strewn on both banks of the river; and 
the lights from the windows, shining in the darkness as we 
journeyed rapidly along, conveyed the idea that we were pass- 
ing through a densely-peopled and highly prosperous country 
— an idea far different from that which takes possession of the 
traveler on the Mississippi, who by night or by day sees more 
frequent signs of the rude, untrodden wilderness and the dis- 
mal swamp, than of the abodes of free men and the haunts of 
an active commei'ce. 

As regards the St. Lawrence itself, familiarity with it breeds 
no contempt. On the contrary, the more it is known the 
more it is admired. Without exaggeration, it may be called 
the chief and prince of all the rivers of tlie world. If it be 
presumed that its real sources are to be sought in the multi- 
tudinous and often nameless streams that rise in the wilder- 
nesses of the Far West, and that have poured the rainfall and 
the thaws of thousands of years into the three great hollows 
which form the Lakes of Superior, Michigan, and Huron, we 
shall find the true commencement of the St. Lawrence at the 
place where the combined waters of these inland seas force 
their passage to the lower levels of Eastern Canada on their 
way to the ocean. This is at Sarnia, in Canada West, at the 
southern extremity of Lake Huron. The stream at this point 



848 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

is called tlie St. Clair River. After running a course of about 
forty miles under this name, it discharges itself into the small 
Lake of St. Clair ; whence, again seeking an outlet, it takes 
the alius of the Detroit Eiver. Kunning for about twenty-five 
miles farther, it iills up another great hollow in the earth, and 
forms a fourth inland sea, called Lake Erie, 18 fathoms deep 
and 5G4 feet above the level of the ocean. At the eastern ex- 
tremity of this lake, the overflow, hastening ever onward to 
the Atlantic, iinds a channel Avhich is called the Niagara. 
The stream, flowing swiftly but equably for fiftceen miles, 
froths up suddenly into the rapids as it approaches the cele- 
brated falls, and thence dashes itself in foam and spray into 
the noblest cataract in the Avorld. After its prcfipitous de- 
scent of ICO feet, it rushes for three miles so furiously that at 
one part of the narrow channel, a little below the Suspension 
Bridge, the middle of the stream is ten feet higher than its 
two sides — a veritable mountain of waters. Growing calmer 
as it runs, and as the channel widens, it discharges itself into 
a fifth great hollow, which it fills, and thus forms Lake Onta- 
rio. It is only at its outlet from this magnificent sheet of wa- 
ter, which is 100 fathoms deep and 235 feet above the level of 
the sea, that it receives at the " Thousand Isles" the name of 
the St. Lawrence, by which it is known in all its future course 
of 750 miles. 

Including the chain of lakes by which it is fed, the course 
of the St. Lawrence is upward of 2500 miles. Its chief afflu- 
ents, besides the myriad streams that originally formed the 
gigantic bulk of Lake Superior, are the Genesee, which falls 
into Lake Ontario ; the Ottowa, which mingles with it to the 
southwest of Montreal ; and the Saguenay, a deep, dark river, 
with high, precipitous banks, Avhich unites with it below Que- 
bec. The lakes, the rapids, the falls, and the islands of the 
St. Lawrence add to the multifariousness of its attractions, and 
render it immeasurably superior to the Mississippi, the Missouri, 
or any other river of North America for grandeiu* and beauty. 
Indeed, there is no aspect under Avhich a river may be regarded 
in which the St. Lawrence is not pre-eminent. But, like every 
thing else in the woi'ld, it has its imperfections. In the first 



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THE ST. LAWKENCE. 851 

place, it is liable to be closed for half the year by the ice. A 
disadvantage such as this, man's energy and skill are, unfor- 
tunately, not able to remedy. Its remediable defects commence 
at the extremity of Lake Eric, where it overflows into Lake 
Ontario, to the lower level of its future course. The F'alls of 
Niagara, which render it so beautifid in the eyes of the lover 
of Nature, give it no charm in those of the merchant, who seeks 
his way to a profitable trade in agricultural produce with the 
great corn and wheat gi-owing states of the American Union 
that border upon the great lakes of the West. But this com- 
mercial defect has been partially remedied. The Welland Ca- 
nal, twenty-eight miles in length, has been constructed, and 
thtough its narrow channel a corn-laden vessel from Chicago 
has ah-eady made the whole voyage from that city to our En- 
glish Liverpool without transhipment of cargo. For vessels 
of 400 tons the Falls of Niagara are virtually non-existent. 
The question remains, and will speedily have to be decided, 
whether they can not be rendered non-existent, commercially, 
for vessels of 1000 tons burden and upward. The solution of 
this question is the deepening and widening of the Welland 
Canal — a costly work, no doubt, but one which must be ac- 
complished if Canada is to derive all her rightful advantages 
from her admirable geographical position, or to hold up her 
head on an equality with the United States. The cost will 
be large, but will be met either by private enterprise or gov- 
ernment encouragement, unless the whole trade of this vast 
region, seeking its market in Europe, is to be permitted to 
pass over the Erie Canal and through the United States, in- 
stead of through Canada and the St. Lawrence, its natural 
outlets. 

The next obstruction to the navigation occurs at Dicken- 
son's Landing, 120 miles beyond Kingston and the Thousand 
Isles, at the first rapids. The beauty and grandeur of these 
and the whole series of rapids between the Thousand Isles 
and Montreal will be more particularly described hereafter. 
At this place the rapids run for nearly twelve miles, and the 
difficulties they place in the way of the up-stream navigation 
have been surmounted by a canal from Dickenson's Landing 



852 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

to Cornwall, at the head of an outspreading of the river called 
Lake St. Francis. The next interruption occurs at the rap- 
ids between Lake St. Francis and Lake St. Louis, to surmount 
"which the Beauharnois Canal has been constructed. From 
this point to the third and last series of rapids at Lachine, 
within nine miles of Montreal, no difficulty occurs. The 
Lachine Canal admits vessels of a burden much greater than 
the Welland Canal can accommodate. The remaining ob- 
struction to the navigation arises from a totally different 
cause, the shallowness of the river, where it widens out to the 
Lake St. Peter. This lake, which in one place is nearly fifteen 
miles broad, acted, until the works for its improvement were 
undertaken, as an effectual bar to the direct ocean commerce 
of Montreal, except by transhipment. In the year 1843 the 
Canadian government commenced the construction of a ship 
canal through the centre of the shallows. The work was 
continued until 1847, when it was temporarily abandoned. In 
1850 the Harbor Commissioners of Montreal, impressed with 
the importance of the work, applied to the Government for 
authority to complete it. The power was granted, and the 
necessary legislative provision made for the cost and main- 
tenance of the improvements. In five years the channel 
throughout the whole length of the lake was deepened five 
feet; and in the summer of 1857 a depth of seven feet greater 
than the original bed of the lake had been attained. " The 
magnitude of the work," says the Hon. John Young, on behalf 
of the Montreal Harbor Commissioners, "will be seen when 
it is considered that the deepening extends over a distance of 
eighty miles ; that dredging has actually been done over 
twenty-four miles, the width of the channel dredged being no- 
where less than 300 feet; and that about 4,250,000 cubic 
yards of excavation have been removed from the bed of the 
lake and river, and carried off and dropped at distances aver- 
aging more than a mile." The object of all these works is to 
afford free egress from and ingress to the St. Lawrence and 
Lake Ontario, and the great lakes of the West, to vessels draw- 
ing twenty feet of water — a work which, when accomplished, 
will not only divert from New York a vast amount of trade 



THE ST. LAWRENCE. 853 

that now finds its way thither, but which will largely aid in 
developing the resources of Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Mich- 
igan, Canada West, and the yet almost desert and untrodden 
regions of the Ked River and the Saskatchewan. 

But how to avoid or overcome the impediments to trade 
and navigation caused by the climate, and the imprisonment 
of the great current of the river under the ice of an almost 
Siberian winter? That difficulty is not to be entirely con- 
quered. There is no remedy that mtfn can apply. But the 
difficulty does not affisct the St. Lawrence alone, for it extends 
even to the Hudson Eiver and to Lake Champlain, which are 
nearly, if not entirely, valueless to commerce during the greater 
part of the winter and early spring. 

But even here the same far-sighted wisdom which has been 
the cause of such improvements in the St. Lawrence — im- 
provements advocated and carried on amid every kind of dis- 
couragement and difficulty — has seen the opportunity of aid- 
ing in the development of the country. The Hudson and 
Lake Champlain are less affected by the frosts than the St. 
Lawrence. From Caughnawaga, nine miles west of Montreal, 
and nearly opposite to Lachine, to the northern extremity of 
Lake Champlain, is a distance of no more than twenty miles. 
A corn-laden vessel from the rich lands around Lake Superior, 
if prevented by the severity of the weather from proceeding 
beyond Montreal, might have the chances to a later period of 
the year of sailing down Lake Champlain, and thence to the 
Hudson and to the ocean, provided there was a ship canal 
from Caughnawaga to Rouse's Point. The State of New 
York — wise enough to see not only the importance of con- 
necting the Hudson with Lake Erie by means of the Erie Ca- 
nal, but with Lake Champlain — constructed a canal some 
years ago, effecting the junction at the southern end of the 
lake. This canal is sixty-five miles in length, but only admits 
vessels of eighty tons. But the link between Caughnawaga 
and the northern extremity of the lake, in British territory, 
would more effectually unite the St. Lawrence, and conse- 
quently Lake Ontario, with the Hudson. This project has 
been put prominently forward by Mr. Young, and, there being 



354 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

no engineering impediments, the only real objection raised 
against it is the expense. But this objection will disappear ; 
and it is all the more important that it should, not only for 
the sake of the trade of the St. Lawrence, but for that of all 
Canada, deprived by geographical circumstances of the Erie 
Canal, and, by the easy, good-natured ignorance of the late 
Lord Ashburton, of the harbors in the territory of Maine, 
which, by every consideration of geography, trade, politics, and 
natural right, ought to have belonged to it. 

How necessary it is for Canada and the friends of Canada 
to stir in all matters relating to the improvement of the St. 
Lawrence and to the hai-bor of Montreal may be understood 
by the instructions to Messrs. Cliilde, M'Alpine, and Kirk- 
Wood, the civil engineers appointed by the Harbor Commis- 
sioners of Montreal to examine and report on the subject ; 
"Although the magnificent canals on the St. Lawrence are in 
perfect order, and have been in operation since 1849, with a 
system of railways also in operation for two years, running 
from Quebec, and connecting with all points south and west, 
yet, up to the close of 1856, the St. Lawrence route had only 
succeeded in attracting fifteen per cent, of the "Western Cana- 
dian and "Western United States' trade, eighty-five per cent, 
of that trade passing through the Erie Canal and over the 
railways of the State of New York." 

All these matters, and many others, I studied that night 
upon the St. Lawrence. At seven in" the morning, with a 
clear, bright sky above us, we arrived within sight of Cape 
Diamond and the imposing fortifications of Quebec. By half 
past seven we had passed Wolfe's Landing and the Pleights 
of Abraham, where the battle was fought that decided the 
fortunes of America, and at eight were safely landed in the 
quaintest and most remarkable city of the New World. 



QUEBEC. 855 



CHAPTER XL. 

QUEBEC. 

May, 1858. 

To Quebec belongs the distinction of being the most an- 
tique, the most quaint, the most picturesque, and in many re- 
spects, both historical and strategical, the most important city 
on the North American continent ; and, before attempting ei- 
ther to describe it or to record the reflections excited by its 
singular history, a few words on the veiy doubtful point of 
the origin of its name may neither be uninterestmg nor inap- 
propriate. The names both of Canada and of Quebec have 
long puzzled etymologists, and, rampant, fiery, and ungovern- 
able as may be tlie etymological hobby — a very Pegasus career- 
ing through all the sciences, and through all knowledge, sacred 
and profane, ancient and modern — it can not be denied that 
inquiries into the derivations of words and names of places, 
if fairly conducted, may conduce to instruction, and throw new 
light upon old subjects, both in the highways and by-ways of 
history and literature. 

The name of Canada is supposed by one class of etymolo- 
gists to have been derived from the Spaniards, and by a sec- 
ond from the native Indians. Father Hennepin, a Jesuit 
writer, states that the Spaniards first discovered Canada — a 
very doubtful point, however — and that, finding nothing on 
the coasts that came up to their expectations or excited their 
cupidity, they called it the " Capo di Nada," or " Cape Noth- 
ing," whence, by abbreviation, Canada. Charlevoix, a later 
Fi-ench writer, repeats the story, and adds that the natives of 
Gaspe, on the St. Lawrence, were in the habit of repeating to 
the French navigators of the days of Jacques Cartier, the real 
discoverer of the St. Lawrence and of Canada, two Avords which 
they had picked up from the Spanish adventurers of an earlier 
date, " Aca nada," or " Nothing here ;" and that the French 



856" LIFE AND LIBERTY IK AMERICA. 

mistook their expression, and imagined that the name of the 
coimtry was Acanada, or Canada. The French have laid no 
claim to the word, though it may be mentioned as singular 
that in the Walloon country of Belgium, and in the neighbor- 
ing French territory, where the same dialect is spoken, a po- 
tato is called a canada. But the Indian derivation seems the 
most probable. Both on the Canadian and the Ncav York 
side of the St. Lawrence occur Indian names of places of which 
the word Caugh is the leading syllable. Thus, opposite La- 
chine is Caugh-na-waga, or the Village of the Rapids, Caugh- 
na-daigha, or Canandaigua, in the county of Genesee, in the 
State of New York ; and Onon-daugha, or Onondaga, in the 
same state. Caugh-na-daugh, pronounced by the Iroquois 
Indians Cah-na-dah, signifies a village of huts, or a town ; 
and the word seems to have been adopted by the French in 
the time of Jacques Cartier. Wherever they found an Indian 
village in their intercourse with the natives from Gaspe to 
Sault St. Louis, they asked its name, and were invariably an- 
SAvered Caugh-na-daugh, and thence believed that the word 
was the name of the whole country. 

Whether this be or be not the true solution, is now diiRcult, 
and perhaps impossible to decide ; but it seems fortunate that 
so large and fine a country has a good and sounding name of 
its own, whencesoever it may have been derived. In this re- 
spect, as well as in some others, Canada has an advantage over 
the "United States of America" — a phrase which designates, 
but does not name, the country. And equally difiicult is it 
to know whence came the name of Quebec. The Iroquois 
Indians called the place Staugh-Daugh-Cona, or Stadacona ; 
and the Hurons, a small remnant of whom still lingers in the 
neighborhood, called it Tia-ton-tarili, or the " place of the 
narrows." Champlain, who has given his own name to the 
large and beautiful lake that lies between the St. LawTence 
and the Hudson, says that the word Quebec is of Indian or 
Algonquin origin, and signifies a " strait." Charlevoix, who 
wrote nearly a century after Champlain, repeats the state- 
ment ; but the Indians themselves deny that there is any such 
word in their language or dialects, and universally agree that 



QUEBEC, 857 

it is of French origin. La Potherie, who wrote on the dis- 
coveries of Jacques Cartier, relates that the Norman crew of 
that distinguished navigator, on catching the first glimpse of 
the imposing promontory of Cape Diamond, on which the 
citadel of Quebec now stands, exclaimed " Quel bee T — what 
a beak ! or promontory — aiad hence the name. But, although 
this derivation seems improbable, if not absurd, it leads in- 
quiry toward Normandy, and to the early settlers in New 
France, as Canada was then called, as to the true source of 
the word. As there is a town called Caudebec on the Seine 
— as there is the Abbey of Bec-Hallouin, in Normandy — may 
there not have been some hamlet, bourg, fief, or castle named 
Quebec, of which the name was transferred to the New World 
by some immigrant Norman adventurer and native of the 
place ? This supposition was at one time gi-eatly strengthen- 
ed by the discovery of a mutilated seal of the famous "William 
de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, in the reign of Henry V. of En- 
gland. This seal, engraved in Edmonstone'' s Hei'cddry, bears in 
the legend the distinct syllables " Quebec" and " Suffolchife ;" 
and, as the greater portion of the legend is broken off, the gap 
was thus conjecturally supplied : Sigillum Willielmi de la 
Pole, Coivotis Suffolchi^, Dominus de Hambury, et de 
Quebec. " This," says the writer in Hawkins's excellent 
"Picture of Quebec," published in that city in 1834, "proves 
beyond doubt that Quebec was a town, castle, barony, or do- 
main, which the powerful Earl of Suffolk either held in his 
own right, or as governor for the king in Normandy, or some 
other of the English possessions in France." But, though 
there was no doubt in the mind of the local historian, there 
would, perhaps, have been a very considerable doubt had he 
consulted " Dugdale's Baronage" for the titles of William de 
la Pole. In vol. ii., page 186, of the folio edition of 1675-6, 
occurs the following passage : " In 4 Henry V. this William 
Avas retained by indentures to serve the king in his wars of 
France with thirty men-at-arms, whereof himself to be one, 
five knights, twenty-four esquires, and ninety archers. * * * 
In remuneration of which and other services, he then obtained 
a grant to himself and the heirs male of his body of the Cas- 



358 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

ties of Hambor and Brequebec, witli their appurtenances, as 
also of all the fees and inheritances which Sir Fulke Pagnell, 
Knight, possessed within the duchy of Normandy, being then 
of the yearly value of three thousand and five hundred scutes." 

Thus it appears that William de la Pole was Lord of Bi'e- 
quehec and not of Quebec, and this explanation suggests that 
on the mutilated seal the first syllable (Bre) may have been 
broken ofT. Brequebec, or, as it is now called, Bricquebec, is 
a village eight miles from Valognes, in Normandy, between 
Cherbourg and St. Malo, and possesses the ruins of an ancient 
castle, with a lofty donjon keep eighty feet high. It was 
taken from the family of Paynell, Paganel, or Paisnel, after 
the battle of Agincourt,, and bestowed by Henry V. on the 
Earl of Suffolk, as stated in Dugdale. So the etymology 
founded upon the authority of the imperfect seal must fall to 
ground ; and we must either look for some other French 
town, castle, or bourg named Quebec Avithout the " Bre" or 
the " Brie," or discover a more probable derivation. 

It appears that an early French wa-iter, Le Pere du Creux, 
Avrites the word in Latin, Kebeccum ; and that, in Major 
Wally's " Journal of the Expedition against Canada under 
Sir William Phipps in 1690," the place is called Cabeck. Is 
not the last-mentioned the real clew, after all, to the difficulty ; 
The western extremity of the long promontory of which the 
citadel of Quebec forms the eastern termination is called Ca- 
rouge, an abbreviation of Cap Eouge ; and may not Cabeck 
be in the same manner derived from Cap Bee ? The name, 
said to have been given to it by the sailors of Jacques Cartier,- 
was Bee, or promontory, whence the transitions to Cape Beck, 
Cap Bee, Cabeck, Kebbeck, and Quebeck, are so simple as to 
require even less than the usual amount of etymological 
stretching to make them fit. But if the name of the cape 
have been given to the city, as seems most probable, the cape 
itself has lost its original designation, and is now called Cape 
Diamond. 

I had not been many hours in Quebec before I stood at the 
wall of the citadel, overlooking the river from a dizzy height 
of three hundred feet — the standard of Great Britain floating 



QUEBEC. 859 

over my head, the red-coated soldiers of my native land pacing 
their rounds, and suggesting, by their arms, their di-ess, their 
accoutrements, their whole look and bearing, the dear old 
countiy from which I was separated by so many thousand 
miles of ocean, and on the soil of whose noblest colony I 
stood. 

And the panorama, stretching on every side, had all the 
elements of grandeur and loveliness to impress itself vividly 
upon the memory and the imagination. The wintry snows, 
though it was in the second week of May, had not entirely 
disappeared from the landscape, but glittered in the distance 
in patches like the white tents of some immense army ; or 
lingered, in still larger wi'eaths, on the high banks of the op- 
posite side of the St. Lawrence, though on the Quebec side, 
having a southward aspect, they had long since disappeared. 
The sky was beautifully clear, and distant objects seemed 
closer to the eye than in the mellower and hazier atmosphere 
of home. At the feet of the spectator, one hundred yards in 
perpendicular descent, and closely huddled against the rock, 
lay the old city — picturesque, narrow, and crooked — a trans- 
atlantic Edinburgh — with its castle-crowned height and bris- 
tling citadel ; but possessing an advantage over Edinburgh 
in the broad and majestic river at the base of the precipice. 
To the west were the Heights of Abraham, and the path up 
the rocks to the Plains, famous in history as the battle-field 
where Wolfe, the young and immortal general of thirty-two, 
gained Canada for Great Bi'itain and wrested from the French 
their American empire. Opposite were the Heights of Pointe 
Levi and the town of New Liverpool. Away to the east was 
the beautiful island of Orieans, where Jacques Cartier landed 
on his second voyage, and called it the island of Bacchus for 
its beauty and fertility, and the number of wild gi-apes he 
found growing there ; an island thirty miles long, dividing 
the broad St. Lawrence into two currents ; while the river it- 
self, blue and beautiful, and studded with vessels of all sizes, 
wound its majestic way to the ocean. The white saUs of the 
ships and boats gleamed in the sunshine, and gave both beauty 
and animation to the scene ; while, close to the edges of the 



360 LIFE AlTD LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

stream, the "booms," in which the "lumber" or timber, which 
forms so large a portion of the wealth of Canada, was inclosed 
previous to its shipment for Europe and the United States, 
suggested the idea that Quebec was not merely a war citadel 
and fortress, but the important centre of a lucrative and in- 
creasing commerce. 

Even had the spot been unassociated with the historic and 
heroic incidents that have made it one of the most memorable 
on the surface of the globe, it would be difficult for any culti- 
vated mind to refuse the homage of admiration to its natural 
advantages, and its romantic loveliness. Within the citadel 
is a monument erected to the memory of Wolfe and Montcalm 
— a small obelisk, bearing the names of the mighty dead : 
Wolfe on one side of the tetragon, INIontcalm on the other ; and 
recalling by tlwir juxtaposition in death and in history, as well 
as on the monument, the lines of Sir Walter Scott on two very 
different heroes : 

" The solemn echo seems to cry, 
Here let their discord with them die ; 
But, search the land of living men, 
Where wilt thou find their like again?" 

And if their rivalry, just one hundred years ago, had taken 
another turn, what would have happened? If Montcalm had 
vanquislied Wolfe, or Wolfe had failed to scale the Heights of 
Abraham, and drag up his one gun to the Plains, what — if wc 
are justified at all in entering into such inquiries — would have 
been the condition of North America at the present time ? 
Nay, what would have been the condition of our ancient Eu- 
rope? Wolfe's victory, and the fast following conquest of 
Canada were, there can not be a doubt, among the most pow- 
erful of the reasons which induced the French monarchy to 
lend its aid to the revolted subjects of the British colonies in 
America, and which brought to George Washington the chiv- 
alrous aid of Lafayette, and procured for the United States 
that independence of England which under other circumstances 
they might not perhaps have enjoyed to this day. And that 
noble struggle, in which Lafayette and his Fi-enchmen played 
so distinguished a part, had its influence in Europe, and 



QUEBEC. 8G1 

wrought so powerfully upon the minds of the French people as 
not only to predispose them for the events of 1789, hut to ex- 
aspenite and impel them. American liberty was the mother 
of the French Eevolution. It was the example of Washing- 
ton and Franklin that helped to raise up the early zealots of 
1789 to attempt in the Old World what was so splendidly ac- 
complished in the New. If Montcalm had been the conqueror 
instead of Wolfe, and if Canada had remained French, Louis 
XVI. might not have lost his head on the scaffold ; no Robes- 
pierre and Danton might have pi'oved themselves the fanatics 
of liberty ; no Napoleon Bonaparte might liave arisen like a 
fiery meteor to illumine and affright the world ; and the mighty 
republic of the United States might have been what Canada 
now is — a free and a prosperous colony of the British crown. 
It is difficult in such a spot as Quebec — the railitar}^ key to 
North America, and where the great event associated forever 
with the name of Wolfe was decided — to avoid indulging more 
or less in reflections of this kind. Such trains of thought are 
the homage demanded by the genius loci, and he who does not 
pay it may be as wise as an owl, and possibly as insensible. 

Quebec has greatly outgrown its original limits.; and tlie 
large suburb of St. John's, stretching far beyond the fortifica- 
tions of the citadel toward the Plains of Abraham, contains a 
population which considerably exceeds that of the city proper. 
The whole population is estimated at about 40,000. The as- 
pect of the old town is essentially French, while the suburb 
partakes more of the Anglo-Saxon character, but not so much 
so as to destroy the predominant French element. The mon- 
asteries, convents, churches, and cathedrals vindicate by their 
architecture the country of their founders, and are the main 
ornaments of Quebec. Indeed, it may be said that, without 
exception, the ugliest building in the city — the wharves on the 
river side excepted — is the English Episcopal Church, or per- 
haps it should be called Cathedral, as it boasts an English 
bishop. The Roman Catholic churches have more pretensions 
to architectural beauty, and the tin roofs of the numerous 
sjiires and cupolas, glittering in the clear sunlight of the clime 
like burnished silver, add greatly to the picturesque beauty of 

Q 



362 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

the town, and aid in impressing it upon the memory of the 
traveler. 

From the rising ground of Mount Pleasant, forming the 
eastern ledge of the Plains or Heights of Abi-aham — where I 
was lodged in the hospitable abode of one of the principal mer- 
chants — the view over the valley of the Charles River to the 
long, straggling village of Beauport was suggestive, like that 
of the panorama of the St. Lawrence, of a densely-peopled and 
highly cultivated country. The whole land seemed to swarm 
with life, and to be cut up into little farms — each farm-house 
in the centre of its own square, like a pawn upon a chess- 
board. The French Canadians, like the French at home, have 
divided and subdivided the land ad injinitum, until they have 
well-nigh exhausted the fertility of the soil. Instead of spread- 
ing out into the wilderness as population increased, they have 
preferred to remain upon the narrow strijDS on the banks of 
the river where their forefathers first effected a settlement, 
Avhilc for miles beyond them lies the virgin forest, ready for 
the axe and the plow, and capable of maintaining a numerous 
population both of agriculturists and traders. But Jean Bap- 
tiste, as the habitant is called, is a quiet, good soul, strongly 
attached to his paternal four acres, or one acre, as the case 
may be, and has not the restless spii-it of enterprise within him 
that carries the Yankee or the Englishman into the busy world 
to carve himself a fortune. He loves to linger around the 
church, and would rather live upon a small pittance within its 
shadow than quintuple his income, or rise to wealth in a new 
and ruder district. In the still busy and fertile valley of the 
llichelieu, on the opposite shore of the St. Lawrence, already 
described, the same feeling and practice prevail, and the same 
results have ensued. The land is so subdivided and exhausted 
that a district which once annually exported large quantities 
of wheat now scarcely grows enough for the consumption of its 
own inhabitants. This defect in the character of the people 
appears to be ineradicable, and threatens to produce in Can- 
ada a state of things, though with a difference, such as that 
which existed in Ireland prior to the famine and plague of 
1847-8-9, and which made the government of Ireland the 



QUEBEC. 363 

greatest difficulty with which the crown of England ever had 
to contend. The New World, with its boundless agricultural 
resources, would seem, at the first glance, to be too large for 
pauperism ; but it must be confessed that the past history and 
present condition of the French colonists of Lower or Eastern 
Canada justify the fear that this plague of Europe may be in- 
troduced into America, and that, as was the case in Ireland, 
the social disease may be aggravated by questions of race and 
religion. Yet when the evil attains its climax there will 
doubtless be a remedy ; and the habitans, pushed into the wil- 
derness by a necessity from which there will be no means of 
escape, will not have so far to travel in search of new fields 
and fresh pastures as their fellow-sufferers of the Green Isle. 
If those who see or suggest the possibility of such a growth of 
circumstances be not open to the accusation of looking some- 
what too far into the uncertain future, should not those who 
have it in their power to direct public opinion in Canada, and 
especially among the descendants of the early French, warn 
the people while it is yet time ? A rich Church and a poor, 
contented, and simple-minded people form one sort of Arcadia, 
but it is not the Arcadia of Englishmen, or of any branch of 
the Anglo-Saxon family ; neither is it an Arcadia for the per- 
petuation of which they are likely to contribute any portion 
of their own hard-won earnings. 

Every visitor to Quebec, unless his heart be utterly ossified 
by the pursuits of trade and deadened to all sentiment, pays a 
visit to the Plains of Abraham, to the s^iot where Wolfe fell, 
marked by an obelisk, and to the steep path up the cliff from 
the shore, at the place now called Wolfe's Cove. The drive 
over the Plains to Cap llouge would well repay the visitor by 
the beauty of the sceneiy, even were there no such history at- 
tached to the ground as to hallow it by the reminiscences of 
patriotic heroism and glorious death. The road runs parallel 
with the St. Lawrence from cape to cape, and the river bank 
is studded with the villas of the merchants of Quebec, each 
with its surrounding groves and gardens. The cultivated and 
inclosed ground has gradually occupied the battle-field and its 
approaches, so that it is now difficult to trace the actual scene 



364 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 

of the conflict ; but in the very heart of the battle, on the spot 
where Wolfe fell mortally woiincled, a stone was erected in 
1834 — seventy-five years after the event — bearing the follow- 
ing simple and eloquent inscription : 

HERE DIED 

WOLFE, 
VICTORIOUS. 

Better in 1834 than never ; but it was not creditable to the 
British government that three quarters of a century should 
have been suffered to elapse ere this tribute was paid to the 
gallant soldier and man of genius, who won for Britain so 
splendid a prize as Canada, and sealed the purchase with his 
blood. In the history of this great struggle it should always 
be remembered, to the enhancement — if that be possible — of 
the pure fame of Wolfe, that he and his army of Britons 
scorned to accept the murderous aid of the Indian tomahawk, 
and that, as far as Great Britain was concerned, it was a fair 
fight with fair weapons. When Montcalm Avas told that 
Wolfe had landed above the town, and made good his footing 
on the Plains, he refused to give credence to a fact so unex- 
pected and alarming. " It must only be Wolfe and a small 
pai'ty," he said, " come to burn a few houses, look about him, 
and return." When no longer able to doubt that AVolfe, 
with a goodly force of British troops, and the Grenadiers 
burning to wipe off the stigma of a previous repulse at Mont- 
morenci, were in actual military possession of the Plains and 
of the approaches to Quebec, " Then," said he, " they have 
got to the weak side of this miserable garrison ; therefore we 
must endeavor to crush them by our numbers, and scalp them 
all by twelve o'clock." Montcalm, though he did not hesi- 
tate to employ the Indians and their scalping-knives, was per- 
haps allowed no discretion in the matter by his superiors at 
home, and was not otherwise an ungenerous foe. He, too, 
lost his life in the struggle ; and, ere dying, paid the British 
forces and Wolfe — who expired several hours before him — 
this magnanimous compliment : " Since it was my misfoi'tune 



QUEBEC. 365 

lo be discomlitcd and mortally wounded, it is a consolation t<> 
nie to be vanquished by so brave and generous an enemy. If 
I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three 
times the number of such forces as I commanded this morn- 
ing with one third the number of British troops." 

It is difficult to decide which of these two great soldiers is 
most beloved by the existing generation of Lower Canadians. 
There is sympathy for the fate, and glory for the name of 
both. It is no longer bad taste for an Anglo-Saxon to praise 
Wolfe in the presence of a French Canadian, or for a French 
Canadian to glory before a British settler in the deeds and 
character of Montcalm. Time has effaced all jealousies, and 
to the victor and the vanquished are alike accorded the tribute 
of history and the love and respect of posterity. 

Quebec possesses the beautiful public cemetery of Mount 
Ilermon, two miles from the city, on the road to Cap Rouge. 
Fi'om every point of the grounds is to be obtained a fine view 
of the St. Lawrence, rolling far beneath the feet of the spec- 
tator the abundant current of its waters. Seen fi'om that 
height, it seems to repose as calmly as the bosom of a mount- 
ain lake, and gives no evidence of the strength and majesty 
with which it sweeps to the Atlantic. The gi'ounds of Mount 
Hermon are very tastefully laid out and planted ; and, while 
sufficiently near to the city for convenience, are too distant to 
justify the fear that any possible increase of Quebec will ever 
render the cemeteiy intramural. Here, at the extremity of a 
leafy avenue, lies, under a handsome monument, erected by the 
liberality of his sympathizing countrymen, the body of John Wil- 
son, the once-celebrated Scottish vocalist, who died of Asiatic 
cholera in Quebec in 1849. But the solitudes of Mount Hermon 
possess a more melancholy and a more interesting grave than 
this. In one long trench, two deep, one above the other, 
buried with their clothes on, as they died, lie no less than two 
hundred and sixty-two persons of all ages. Here are grand- 
fathers and grandmothers, sons and daughters, husbands and 
wives, brothers and sisters, and little children, who all perish- 
ed in the burning of the steam-ship 3Iontreal, bound fi'om Glas- 
gow to Montreal, in June, 1857. The sad calamity excited a 



366 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

painful sensation throughout Canada, as well as in Scotland, 
from which nearly all the emigrants came. They were all of 
the best class of farmers and mechanics, mostly strong young 
men, with their wives and families, who had saved a little 
capital by prudence and thrift in the Old Country, and came 
hither in all the pride of health and strength, and in the flush 
of hope and enterprise, to try their fortune on a new soil. 
They had passed in safety through all the perils of the Atlan- 
tic, and for upward of six hundred miles through the.Gulf and 
River of St. Lawrence, with the land of their adoption within 
an arrow's flight on either side of their ship. As the noble 
vessel passed Quebec on her way to Montreal, the people on 
the wharves and on the fortifications turned out to look at 
her ; and one Avho had been a sailor, and had a keen eye for 
all the appurtenances of a ship, remarked to a comrade, " That 
vessel is on fire!" And so it proved. She had not steamed 
two miles past Wolfe's Cove when the flames burst out ; and 
the captain, as the only chance of safety, drove her on shore 
on a narrow ledge of rock between Wolfe's Cove and Cap 
Rouge. Unfortunately, there were ten feet of water on the 
landward side of the ledge, and the distracted people, listening 
to no counsel, in their teiTor to escape from the dread enemy, 
Fire, leaped by scores and hundreds into the water, knowing 
nothing of its depth, and hoping to be able to wade ashore. 
Out of upward of four hundred souls, only about eighty were 
rescued ; the remainder, including many hapless mothers and 
their little children, and many beautiful young girls, were 
drowned within sight — and, had they remained quiet and self- 
collected for a few moments longer, within reach — of deliver- 
ance. And here they lie in one long grave, their very names 
imknown, save, perhaps, to their sorrowing relatives in Scot- 
land ; and, in some instances, where whole families perished 
together, unknown to living man. Few of the survivors of 
the calamity remained in Canada. There seemed to their 
minds to be a curse upon the country, and they returned to the 
old land in despair. The loss to Canada was great. They 
were the very class of emigrants the most needed and the most 
useful; and their combined capital, and the use they could 



QUEBEC. 867 

have made of it within four or five years, represented at least 
half a million of pounds sterling. The Canadians came for- 
ward on the occasion with a generosity that did them honor. 
The Scotch particularly distinguished themselves by the liber- 
ality of their subscriptions for the relief of the survivors. 
Quebec, Montreal, Toronto, Hamilton, and other cities con- 
tributed large sums to the fund. It seemed to me, when 
standing upon the spot, that few graves could be more affect- 
ing. The mounds raised over heroes slain in battle, or the 
trenches into which arc thrust the victims of a plague, may ap- 
peal strongly to the sympathies of those who in the presence 
of Death remember humbly and reverentially their own hu- 
manity ; but the grave of hope, of health, of strength, of youth, 
and of infancy, all mingled together by the accident of one 
moment — by one tick of the great pendulum of Fate — appeals 
still more potently both to the heart and the imagination. 

Closely adjoining Mount Hermon, and on the same Heights 
of Abi-aham, is Spencer Wood, the summer residence of the 
Governor General of Canada, through the pleasant grounds 
of which our party strolled at will for upward of an hour ere 
we proceeded to an equally pleasant though smaller villa, 
where an English gentleman, retired from the British army to 
cultivate a Canadian estate, awaited our coming, and gave us 
a hospitable Avelcome. 

But, though the Heights of Abraham and the road to Cap 
Rouge are among the first drives or walks taken by every 
visitor to Quebec who has time at his command, they are not 
the only excursions that should be made by those who have an 
eye for the picturesque, and who desire to enjoy the beauties 
of a land that is pre-eminently the land of torrents and water- 
falls — a land that is even more musical with the voice of 
streams, than Scotland or Switzerland, and that possesses, 
in addition to the world's wonder, the great Niagara, such 
splendid cataracts as those of Montmorenci, Lorette, and the 
Chaudiere. The ride to the Falls of Montmorenci, and that 
equally picturesque to the village and Falls of Lorette, can 
not be omitted by any traveler who dares to say, on his re- 
turn to Europe, that he has been to Quebec. The ride to 



368 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Montmorenci, through the long village of Beauport, is only- 
interesting from the glimpses which it affords of French Ca- 
nadian peasant life. The fine church, the mean cottage, and 
the cross by the wayside, are all familiar objects to him who 
has traveled in Europe ; but Beauport possesses characteristics 
of its own, which are due to the climate rather than to the 
people. The village (the head-quarters of Montcalm in 1759) 
extends nearly the whole distance from Quebec to Montmo- 
renci, straggling on both sides of the way, each house present- 
ing itself to the road diagonally, with a sharp corner. The 
front door is reached by a high flight of steps ; both arrange- 
ments being essential to the comfort of the people in the long 
and severe wmters of Canada. The cornerwise implacement 
of the houses allows the wintry winds to carry to the rear 
the snow which might in other circumstances be drifted to the 
front ; and the high door is necessary for the safe egress and 
ingress of the people to their homes in seasons when the ac- 
cumulated snowfall is often ten or twelve feet in depth. The 
windows of nearly every one of these cottages were so pro- 
fusely filled with flowers as to challenge a stranger's attention 
not only to their beauty and choiceness, but to the elegant 
taste of the wives and daughters of the habitans, of whose love 
of floricultui'e they afforded such pleasant proofs. 

The Montmorenci Eiver discharges itself into the St. Law- 
rence over a high, precipitous bank of nearly two hundred 
feet — a very noble cataract. The winter seldom lays its icy 
touch upon the waters with such severity as to arrest the 
current, but every year the spi-ay cast upward by the torrent 
is frozen ere it falls, and sprinkles the banks and the ice of 
the lower stream with showers of show, which form a cone or 
hill at a short distance from the fall. In cold weather this 
cone often rises as high as the upper level of the rock from 
which the river leaps. It is a favorite diversion of the 
citizens of Quebec, when the winter forbids all business, and 
nothing is to be thought of unless it be pleasure, or the bal- 
ancing of the gains and losses of the previous spiing and 
summer, to make excursions to Montmorenci, and give the 
young folks or the ladies a slide down the cone in cars con- 



QUEBEC. 369 

structed for the purpose. At the time of my visit, though 
the spring was far advanced, the cone still remained about 
forty feet in height, and the river, at the base of the fall, 
was thickly coated Avith ice. From one point of the rock, 
on the eastern side of the gorge, a fine view of Quebec, 
glittering at a distance of seven- miles to the west, is to be ob- 
tained ; while eastward stretches the island of Orleans, with 
its superabundant wild grapeg,; its sunny shores, and its fertile 
hills and valleys. 

There is within the limits of the British Isles one spot from 
which a view equally grand and extensive is to be had, and 
that is at the very summit of Strone Point, in the Frith of 
Clyde ; a place seldom visited, but which may be recommend- 
ed to all pedestrians and lovers of the grand and romantic in 
scenery who find themselves on a summer day at Greenock, 
Kilmun, Dunoon, or any other of the beautiful watering-places 
for which the Clyde is celebrated, and who may wish to see at 
small effort, and without the necessity of crossing the Atlantic, 
a resemblance to the most romantic scenery of Canada. 

The Falls of Lorette arc not so picturesque as those of 
Montmorenci, but are well worthy of a visit, not only for their 
own beauty, but for their close proximity to the Indian village 
of Lorette, where resides the last scanty remnant of tlie once 
powerful tribe of the Hurons, the former lords and possessors 
of Canada. Paul, the chief or king of the tribe, is both the 
most exalted and the most respectable member of the tribe, 
and carries on with success, by means of the female members 
of his family, a trade in the usual Indian toys and knick- 
knacks which strangers love to purchase, and in his own per- 
son cultivates a farm in a manner that proves him to be a 
skillful and thrifty aga'iculturist. His aged mother and her 
sister, the " Queen of the Hurons," received us hospitably in 
their neatly-furnished cottage ; and the lattei*, eighty years 
of age, whom we regaled with a quart of Bass's pale ale, 
which she relished exceedingly, and drank off at two draughts, 
showed us a silver medal which she had received from Alder- 
man Garratt, Lord-Mayor of London, in 1825, when she and 
her late husband, the "king," had visited London, to urge 

Q2 



870 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

some claim of territorial right upon the British government. 
The old lady, in return for the interest I had expressed in her, 
and perhaps, also, to show her gratitude for the bitter ale, 
obligingly told my fortune by looking at my palm, and refused 
to receive fee or reward for her pains. What the fortune, 
predicted was, and whether it has come true, need not be told 
farther than it was just as favorable and just as true as that 
with which any Gipsy nearer home could have flattered me ; 
and any one more like a Gipsy than the " Queen of the IIu- 
rons" I never saw. I could not help believing, Avhen I looked 
upon her, and as I do Avhen I recall her to my mind, that the ' 
Ked Men of the New World and the Gipsies of the Old are 
one people ; the same in their features, build, and habits ; in 
their restless and wandering mode of life ; in their claims to 
the power of divination ; and in their incapability of enduring 
continuous hard labor, or reaching any high degree of civili- 
zation. 



CPIAPTER XLI. 

TORONTO. 

From Montreal to Toronto by the Grand Trunk Eailway 
is a long day's journey of 333 miles. The line passes by or 
near the towns of Cornwall, Prescott, Brookville, Kingston, 
Belleville, Coburg, Port Hope, Bowmanville, Oswaka, and 
others, of which the populations vary in numbers from 1800 
at Port Hope, to 16,000 at Kingston. By taking the rail, the 
traveler misses all the sceneiy of the St. LaA^Tencc, the Rapids, 
and the Thousand Isles, but as these are seen to greater ad- 
vantage in descending the river, and as there is no possibility 
of shooting the rapids except with the current, the rail is the 
most expeditious mode of traveling from Montreal westward, 
and the steamer by far the best and most agreeable for travel- 
ers going east. I therefore left unvisited until my return the 
Thousand Isles and the Rapids, and, bidding a temporary fare- 
well to the pleasant city of Montreal, started for Toronto at 
seven in the morning. The scenery after we lost sight of the 



TOEONTO. 873 

hills of Montreal, and the glistening spires and cupolas of the 
city, soon ceased to be picturesque, and all the way to Kings- 
ton, a distance of 173 miles, was flat and monotonous in the 
extreme. Our train was composed of five long cars of a con- 
struction precisely similar to that of the comfortless traveling 
kennels used in the United States ; and the method of taking 
the tickets, and of allowing to the conductor the entire control 
over moneys received from the passengers who enter at the 
principal or at the intermediate stations, without the prelim- 
inary purchase of tickets, was exactly the same. Soon after 
leaving Kingston, our course for upward of 150 miles skirted 
the shoi'e of Ontario. The lake was on this occasion roughened 
by a storm, that made its broad expanse far more picturesque 
than the flat, unvarying panorama on tlie landward side ; from 
whence, ever and anon, as our train stopped, we could hear 
the load croaking of multitudes of frogs, which, from their 
power of lung, must have been of a considerably larger species 
than the largest bull-frogs of the Old World. I Avas informed 
by a passenger that these were the " veritable nightingales of 
Canada," and that their croak sounded uncommonly like the 
words " strong rum, strong rum." Our train reached its des- 
tination in little more than fourteen hours and a quarter, ar- 
i-iving at twenty minutes past nine in the evening, only five 
minutes after the advertised time. Such punctuality as this 
it was never before my good fortune to witness on any rail- 
way in America, and the speed, nearly twenty-nine miles an 
hour, including stoppages, was greater than the average rate 
of traveling in the States. Having taken up my quarters at 
the Eossin House, a monster hotel — the largest in Canada — 
conducted by an American on the American principle, I sal- 
lied out in the morning to take my first look at the legislative 
capital for the time being of the two Canadas. 

The contrast between Toronto and the cities of Canada East 
was so marked and striking, that it was some time before I 
could persuade myself that I was not back again in the United 
States. In Montreal and Quebec, the solid, substantial aspect 
of the houses, the streets, the churches and public buildings, 
continually suggests the idea of Europe. Every thing seems 



374 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMEEICA. 

to have the slow growth of centuries, as in France, Gei-many, 
and England. The streets seem to have arranged themselves 
to the wants of successive generations, and to have been made 
straight or crooked, wide or narrow, according to the need or 
caprice of the moment, and not in pursuance of any pre-de- 
vised plan. But Toronto, a thing of yesterday, a mere mush- 
room compared with the antiquity of Montreal and Quebec, 
though rivaling the one, and exceeding the other in trade and 
population, is built upon the Amei'ican principle, which loves 
the economy of straight lines, asserts the necessity of system, 
prefers the chess-board to the maze, and the regularity of art 
to the picturesque irregularity of nature. It is first the plan 
and then the city ; not the city in the first instance, to grow 
afterward, or to cease to grow as it pleases, as was the case 
with all cities more than two hundred years old. 

The streets are long and straight. There is no more crook- 
edness in them than there is in Philadelphia; and they all 
run at right angles to the lake ; and one of them — York 
Street — is supposed on the map to stretch away — straighter 
than an arrow's flight — to Lake Simcoe, nearly forty miles 
distant. There is a Yankee look about the whole place which 
it is impossible to mistake ; a pushing, thriving, business-like, 
smart appearance in the people and in the streets ; in the 
stoi'cs, in the banks, and in the churches. I could not but 
observe, too, that there was a much larger predominance of 
Scotch names over the doors than I had previously seen in 
any other city of America. Looked upon from any part of 
itself, Toronto does not greatly impress the imagination ; but 
seen from the deck of one of the ferry steam-boats that ply at 
regular intervals between the city and the long, low strip of 
a peninsula that, at a distance of four miles from the shore, 
protects the harbor, it has all the air of wealth and majesty 
that belongs to a great city. Its numerous church spires and 
public buildings ; its wharves, factories, and tall chimneys, 
mark it for what it is — a busy, thriving, and expanding place. 
In the year 1793, the spot on which it stands was covered 
with a dense forest, amid which, close to the lake, might be 
seen the wigwams of the Mississagua Indians. The site was 



TORONTO. ^ 875 

flxecl upon by Governor Simcoc, and the future town named 
York, in honor of the Duke of York, then a favorite with the 
British army ; and the ground cleared in 1794. The Parlia- 
ment of Upper Canada met here in 1797. But the growth 
of the place was not rapid ; for, in 1821, a quarter of a cen- 
tury after its foundation, it contained but 250 houses and 133G 
inhabitants. During the next nine years its progress was more 
satisfactory ; and its ambition was great enough to draw upon 
it the ill-will of other struggling places upon the lake, by 
whose inhabitants it v/as called in derision "Little York," 
" Dirty Little York/' and " Muddy Little York." But " Lit- 
tle York" was well situated ; its early inhabitants knew how 
to turn its advantages to account ; and by rapid steps it be- 
came the seat of a large trade and of very considerable manu- 
factures, among which those of furniture and machinery are 
now the most important. The name of Toronto, derived from 
the original Lidian appellation of a collection of wigwams that 
once stood upon the same site, and signifying " the meeting- 
place," was adopted in the year 1834, at which time it had 
become a flourishing place of about 10,000 inhabitants. Since 
that period its progress has been greater than that of any 
other city in Canada. In ten years it nearly doubled its pop- 
ulation, Avhich in 1844 amounted to 18,420. In 1851 the 
population had increased to 30,755, and in the spring of 1858 
to upward of 50,000. The number of houses in the city is 
7476, of which 3212 have been built since 1850. The amount 
of real property within its limits is assessed at £7,288,150, 
the yearly value of Avhich is estimated for purposes of local 
taxation at £437,289. The value of personal property is es- 
timated at £1,296,616. Independently of the real property 
in the hands of citizens, the corporation of the city holds prop- 
erty in public buildings, lands, and water-lots estimated at up- 
ward of £430,000, and yearly increasing in value. 

Toronto possesses no less than four daily newspapers, one 
of which, the Globe, circulates every morning about 19,000 
copies, and the editor and proprietor of which is a member of 
the Legislature, and acknowledged leader of the Opposition in 
the Lower House. The other daily papers, the Leader, the 



376 LIFE A-NB LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Colonist, and the Atlas, are also widely cii'culated, and con- 
ducted Avitli much ability. The Aveekly and semi-weekly 
papers are too numerous to specify, and betoken by their suc- 
cess an amount of intellectual activity among the people that 
is not to be found in any city or town of the same size in the 
Old Country, or, indeed, any where out of London. It also 
possesses two small newspapers, of a class of which Punch is 
almost the only representative in England, and which have 
never yet been successfully established in any city of the 
United States — the Poker and the Grumbler — each a Punch in 
its way, without the illustrative wood engravings which make 
Punch so attractive. The Canadians seem to have more of 
the British and Irish relish for wit than exists among the 
people of the United States, who, if they enjoy broad humor, 
are for the most part, unless they have traveled in Eui'ope, or 
are litterateurs by profession, quite unable to ai^preciate wit. 

Toronto possesses a well-endowed University, several col- 
leges and public schools, and may be said to have set an ex- 
ample to all Canada in the cause of public education. It also 
possesses a park for the health and recreation of the people, 
as well as for the amenity of the city, objects ofwhich the ne- 
cessity has not, unfortunately, been so manifest in other cities, 
both in Canada and the United States, as to induce either the 
early founders or the existing municipalities of the most pop- 
ulous among them to look so far into the future, or even into 
the wants of the present, as to purchase land for purposes so 
desirable. 

The Legislature was in full session on my arrival ; and 
liaving the honor of the acquaintance of one actual and three 
ex-ministers, and of half a dozen members of the Lower 
House, I was speedily made free of both chambers, and ad- 
mitted to all such privileges of the floor as can be accorded to 
any one not actually a member. The proceedings were al- 
most, if not quite, as devoid of ceremonial and formality as 
the State Legislatures of the American Union. Indeed, the 
only dilFerence that I could discover was that at the back of 
the speaker's chair were the royal arms of Great Britain, and 
on the table before him, as in the House of Commons at 



TORONTO. 877 

liome, a large silver-gilt mace — " that bauble," as Cromwell 
called it. 

The " show-places" of Toronto, after the Houses of Parlia- 
ment, are the University, the normal and model school, under 
the superintendence of the Kev. Dr. Egerton Ryerson, to whom 
education in Canada owes much ; and the furniture manufac- 
tory of Messrs. Jacques and Hay. All these establishments 
are not only interesting in themselves, but suggestive of the 
present importance and future progress of Canada. At the 
manufactory of Messrs. .Jacqvies and Hay may be seen the pro- 
duction by machinery of furniture en gros, from the common- 
est stool, chair, table, or bedstead required for the log hut of 
the humblest settler in the wilderness, to the most costly ot- 
toman and fauteuil demanded by the luxury of the richest 
merchant. Walnut wood, so expensive in England, is in Can- 
ada among the cheapest of the Avoods of which furniture is 
made. 

Toronto has a great future before it. For the last ten 
years its progress has been such as to justify the expectation 
that it will rival, if not surpass Chicago and Milwaukee, still 
farther west, for it has advantages not possessed by either of 
these cities, and which will indubitably be turned to proper 
account when Canada shall be properly known to the emi- 
grants of the British Isles. At present the great tide of emi- 
gration sets to the United States. Hereafter it is more than 
probable that Canada will be the favorite. 

In looking at the vast capabilities of the two Canadas — in 
considering the climate, so much more congenial to the hardy 
races of the British Isles than that of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, 
and Missouri — in considering, above all things, the fact that 
the immigrant into the Canadas enters into the enjoyment of 
a much greater degree of political liberty than is possessed in 
the United States, and that he does not thereby cut himself 
entirely adrift from the protection and relationship of the old 
and dear mother country with which he is associated by so 
many tender tics of memory and sympathy, one can not but 
feel surprise that the Canadas do not absorb a far larger pro- 
portion of the overflow of the teeming population of Great 
Britain and Ireland. 



378 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

For one Englishman, Scotchman, or Irishman who fixes his 
lot in Canada, ten Englishmen, Scotchmen, and Irishmen try 
their fortunes in the United States ; not because there is 
cheaper, better, and more abundant land to be had — not be- 
cause there is a greater amount of rational liberty, or a lighter 
amount of local and imperial taxation, but apparently from a 
vague fear that a day must come when the Canadians will 
have to struggle for their freedom, and do over again what 
was done by the people of the United States in the days of 
Washington. There seems to be a dread that the battle for 
independence will have to be fought against England. Emi- 
grants do not choose to run the risk of such a struggle, and to 
do such violence to their feelings as to take arms against the 
land of their love and of their childhood ; against the land 
where rest the bones of their fathers ; against which they 
have and can have no natural or even political animosity. If 
such be the idea or the instinct of the mass of emigrants, noth- 
ing can be more erroneous, as far as we can judge from the 
pi'esent politics, interests, and feelings of the Canadians ; and 
as far also as we can judge from the tone and temper, and, let 
us hope, the increased wisdom of the British government. 
Should the Canadians ever wish to be independent, they have 
but to say the word, and the British people, so flxr from sup- 
porting the government in any attempt to thwart their wishes, 
will say, " Go ! God bless you ! May you increase and pros- 
per ! You are blood of our blood, and bone of our bone ; and 
all that we desire of you — as we should desire of our dearest 
son — is that you should flourish, pay your own way, cease to 
be a burden or an expense to us, and remain forever our dear- 
est friend and best customer." The same feeling would in- 
fluence the government, whether it were Liberal or Conserv- 
ative. The mistakes of George III. could no more be repeated 
in our day than the mistakes of King John or James II. ; and 
Great Britain, warned by experience, and having learned wis- 
dom in adversity — and having, moreover, a truer appreciation 
of the value of colonies, and of the duty of the queen bee to the 
swarms that she sends forth, could not fall into the errors com- 
mitted in the bv-gone and almost antediluvian times of Wash- 



HAMILTON, LONDON, AND OTTAWA. 379 

iiigton uiid Lafayette. Public opinion has grown too strong 
for the commission of svich bhinders, and would not tolerate 
their repetition, even if a ministry could be found in our day 
wrong-headed and foolhardy enough to repeat them. And 
while the loyalty of the Canadas is an established fact, it is 
equally established on the other side that the Canadas must 
make their own way in the world, fight their own battle, and 
take their own choice. Great Britain, like a fond mother, 
will rejoice in their prosperity, even though it be acquired by 
their independence. 

These considerations, if properly weighed and understood in 
the British Isles, will in due time cause a far larger stream of 
emigration to flow toward those noble provinces, and to the 
yet undeveloped wildernesses of the Red ELver and the Sas- 
katchewan, than the superior attractions, though not the su- 
perior advantages, of the United States ha.ve yet permitted — 
and farther even than these remote regions — across the whole 
breadth of the continent, to British Columbia, Vancouver, and 
the shores of the Pacific. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

HAMILTON, LONDON, AND OTTAWA. 

The flourishing city of Hamilton, in Burlington Bay, may 
be reached from Toronto, by the Great Western Railway of 
Canada, in an hour and a half, and by a pleasant drive along 
the shores of Lake Ontario. Hamilton contains a population 
of upward of 30,000, and has from small beginnings made as 
rapid a progress as any city in Canada. It aspires to rival, 
and looks with considerable jealousy upon Toronto. The prin- 
cipal journal of Hamilton was, at the time of my arrival, in 
great spirits at the supposed effects of a recent storm in the 
lake, which had made a breach through the long, narrow pen- 
insula — six miles long, and about twenty yards wide — with 
its row of trees, which protects the harbor of Toronto. In 
the estimation of -the vmter, this catastrophe had ruined To- 
ronto as a port. The people of Toronto, however, were of a 



380 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

ditiercnt opinion, mid looked upon the alleged calamity as a 
piece of great good fortune, in saving them the expense of cut- 
ting a previously projected canal through the very place which 
the storm had so opportunely broken down. 

The inhabitants of Hamilton call it the " ambitious little 
city ;" and if ambition is to be measured by deeds as well as 
by words, the promise is, in this case, justified by the perform- 
ance. It is handsomely laid out with broad clean streets, and 
built upon the level of the lake. Behind it stretches what its 
people call " the Mountain," but the summit of which is mere- 
ly the real level of the whole surrounding country — the mar- 
gin of the great Lake of Ontario at a time, perhaps fifty or a 
hundred centuries ago, when its waters were on a height with 
the upper i-apids of Niagara ; and when between Kingston and 
the Thousand Isles there stretched toward Quebec and the 
Gulf of St. Lawrence that other lake, no longer existent, in 
which Montreal and Bel CEil were islands, and of which the 
Laurentian range on the one side, and the hills of Vermont 
on the other, were the boundaries. The position of Hamilton 
renders it extremely hot and close in the summer months, and 
such of its inhabitants as can afford tlie luxury of country vil- 
las betake themselves to the upper plateaux of the " mountain" 
in search of the cool breezes which are denied them in the 
city. It boasts not only a monster hotel on the American 
principle, but several fine churches and some commercial build- 
ings which would do honor to St. Paul's Church-yard — among 
others, that of Mr. M'Innes, whose " dry goods' store" is upon 
a scale of magnitude that the great wholesale houses of Lon- 
don, whether in St. Paul's Church-yard or elsewhere, have not 
yet surpassed. Hamilton is of a decidedly Scottish character, 
Gaelic is often heard in its streets, but not to so great an ex- 
tent as the Saxon Doric of the Lowlands. The names over 
the shop doors and stores smack of Sutherlandshire, Inverness- 
shire, and Ai'gyllshire. There are a few Germans and Irish 
to be found, as there are in every city in America, but the 
predominating race in Hamilton is the Scotch — both Highland 
and LoAvland — all, or the greater part of them, thriving and 
well-to-do persons. At Montreal a Highlander introduced 



HAMILTON, LONDON", AND OTTAWA. 881 

himself to me whose cottage or hut had been unroofed by or- 
der of the agents of a great Highland proprietor, and he and 
his wife and destitute family turned out upon the highway to 
live or die, as they pleased. Resolving not to die, and putting 
a brave heart to a rough work, he had emigrated to Canada, 
and, after years of patient industry, had succeeded in estab- 
lishing himself as a merchant. Fortune had favored him, and 
he had built a mansion on the base of the hill of Montreal al- 
most as large, substantial, and elegant as Spencer Plouse in 
the Green Park of London, or the Duke of Sutherland's ad- 
joining. And more than one such instance of prosperity, 
achieved by indomitable Highlanders cleared out of their small 
holdings by the supposed necessity that impels gi-eat proprie- 
tors to make sheep-farms of the valleys, and grouse-shootings 
or deer-forests of the hill-tops of the Highlands, were reported 
to me in Hamilton and in other parts of Canada. The deso- 
late glens of Ballahulish, the bleak moorlands of the Black 
Mount, and the Avide-stretching wildernesses of the Keay For- 
est, or "Mackay country," have contributed many stout hearts, 
strong arms, and clear heads to till the soil and develop the 
resources of Upper Canada ; and though no thanks be due to 
such landlords in Scotland as think more of their rents than 
of the peasantry — more of money than of men — and who de- 
rive a larger revenue from bare hill-sides, where the sheep 
pasture with one solitary shepherd per square mile to guard 
them, than from the glens and straths which were formerly 
cultivated by hundreds of honest men who could fight the 
battles of their country in days of peril, the result has in num- 
berless instances been to the advantage both of the expatri- 
ated people and the new land of their adoption. If Scotland 
have suffered, Canada has gained ; and, " there being a soul 
of goodness in things evil," the pauper of the Old World has, 
by a little severity — if not too aged and decrepit when the 
operation was tried upon him — been converted into the flour- 
ishing farmer or merchant of the New, by a rough but, per- 
haps, wholesome process. 

Want of time prevented me from extending my Journey 
through the whole length of Western Canada to Sarnia upon 



382 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA, 

the Kivcr St. Clair, a place described by a local poet, whose 
title-page affirms him to be both "satirical and sentimental:" 

" Sarnia is a thriving town, 

And Lately was incorjioratcd, 
Has no rivals to pull her down, 

Nor none against her can be created." 

I also intended to visit the large city of Detroit — once on 
Canadian soil, but now the principal port of Michigan in the 
United States — but had only time to proceed as far as Lon- 
don, seventy-six miles beyond Hamilton. This place ought 
assuredly to have received another name. It is as interesting 
as any city in Canada for its rapid growth, and more so, per- 
haps, for the sudden check Avhich its prosperity received in 
consequence of the recoil caused by the over-eagerness of land 
and building speculatoi's to force it into pi'emature importance 
by inadequate means. The name of the place and river was 
originally " The Forks ;" but when its early founder absurdly 
chose to call it London, the river, on the high bank of which 
it is built, Avas with equal absurdity miscalled the Thames. 
And now, when it is a city of ten or twelve thousand inhabit- 
ants, and when its streets are either planned or laid out in 
anticipation of the day when it shall number fifty thousand 
or upward, the original idea has been carried out to the full 
extent in the naming of its principal buildings and thorough- 
fares. Thus we have in this " Forest City," as it is some- 
times called, Blackfriars' and Westminster Bridges, Covent 
Garden Market and Theatre, Oxford Street, Piccadilly, Pall 
jMall, Grosvenor Street, and other appellations known in the 
\A'orld's metropolis, and the use of which, coupled with the 
Avord "London," very often leads to serious mistakes in the 
post-office, and sends to Europe letters and orders for goods 
which are intended for Canada. Every one with whom I 
came in contact during my visit was loud in denunciation of 
the folly, and there seemed to be a general wish that the city 
should receive the name of Huron, as more appropriate and 
distinctive. AVhen the Anglican bishop for this part of Can- 
ada was appointed, it was intended to call him Bishop of 
London ; but the inconvenience of this adoption of an ecclesi- 



HAMILTON, LONDON, AND OTTAWA. 883 

astictil title already appropriated was felt to be so excessive, 
that on the representation of the Home Government the new 
prelate was called the liishop of Huron, a precedent wliicli 
will, perhaps, lead to the substitution of Huron for London in 
the name of a city that deserves, and is important enough to 
assert its own individuality. Toronto is infinitely better as 
the name of a city than York ; Ottawa is a vast improvement 
upon Bytown ; and, generally, the Indian names, wherever 
they can be adopted, are far more sonorous, musical, and ap- 
propriate than any names derived from the geography of 
Europe, or from individuals, illustrious or the reverse, who 
may have chanced to possess the land on Avhicli cities are 
built. 

London had scarcely recovered from the effects of its re- 
verse of fortune at the period of my visit. Its " Great Amer- 
ican Hotel" was shut up for want of patronage, and a general 
depression seemed to hang over the place. But there can bo 
little doubt, from its situation on the high road from the At- 
lantic to the Pacific, or, to speak more moderately, from Que- 
bec, Montreal, and Toronto to Detroit and the Far West, that 
London will yet become a flourishing place, and justify the 
sanguine expectations of its early founders. Here, as in Ham- 
ilton and Toronto, the Scotch muster in large numbers, and 
are among the most thriving and respected of the inhabitants. 

It was with rcgi-et that I left unvisitcd those rural districts 
of Upper Canada where the ultra-Highlanders, turned out of 
their holdings in the north, have founded a new Scotland, 
and where they unfortunately, in an unwise love of their 
mother-land, cultivate the Gaelic to the exclusion of tho En- 
glish language, and where, with a more pardonable love of 
country, they keep up the sports and games, the dress and 
music of the Gael, and are far more Highland in their habits 
and prejudices than Highlanders at home. After a short stay 
in London I turned my steps back toward the east, to accept 
an invitation to the city of Ottawa, the place selected by her 
majesty in council ns the future capital of the United I'rov- 
inces. Proceeding by rail beyond Toronto to Prescott, a mis- 
erable town at the eastern extremity of Lake Ontario, where 



38-i LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

it narrows into the St. Lawrence, and threads the mazes of the 
Tliousand Isles, I passed the night in a fourth-rate inn, after 
the English, and not after the American fashion, and woefully 
remarked the difference. In the morning I proceeded to the 
station of the railway, first opened for traffic in December, 
1854, and Avaited for some time the departure of the tardy 
train, amid a loud and exultant chorus of bull-frogs, amusing 
myself at times by looking at the frogs, and thinking of the 
lines of the poet of Sarnia, 

"This pond is full of to.ids and frogs, 
And here and there of rotten logs ;" 

and of his exclamation to the boys who pelted them with 
stones when they croaked " Strong rum ! strong rum !" 

" Oh, how can man be so unjust 
As tlius betray his Maker's trust? 
Yes, tyrant man acts thus unholy, 
His hopes of heaven's a hjperholtj .'" 

But my principal amusement was to watch the antics of an 
unconscionably numerous family of little ones belonging to 
an Irish squatter who had taken possession of a piece of land 
by the road-side, and built himself a very respectable log hut, 
or wigwam, for it partook more of the nature of a savage than 
of a civilized edifice. At last we started, and in the course 
of three hours got over the distance of fifty-one miles, and ar- 
rived safely at Ottawa, on the border-line between Upper and 
Lower Canada — the very place that any intelligent person, 
unaware of, or making no allowance for established interests 
or ancient jealousies, would select, after a study of the map, 
as the most eligible and proper site for the capital of the two 
Canadas. And if a capital can be artificially created, Ottawa 
will be the capital of Canada. But as there are more things 
necessary for a capital than an act of the Legislature and the 
assembling of a Parliament within its boundaries, and as com- 
merce has laws of its own over Avhich Parliaments — imperial 
or provincial — are utterly powerless, it is tolerably certain 
that Ottawa never will become the commercial metropolis or 
the greatest and most populous city of Canada. As the small 
city of Albany is to the largo city of New York, as Columbus 



HAMILTON, LONDON, AND OTTAWA. 385 

is to Cincinnati, and Baton Rouge to New Orleans, so will 
the small legislative city of Ottawa be to the great commercial 
emporium of Montreal. Montreal is the real capital of the 
Canadas, and will continue to be so, whatever progress may 
be made either by such rival cities as Toronto on the one side, 
and Quebec on the other, and by such a neutral city as Ot- 
tawa, where the Canadian Parliament may well meet, but 
where Canadian merchants wUl most assuredly never congre- 
gate to the same extent as in the cities of the St. Lawrence. 
For the legislative capital Ottawa possesses many advantages 
of position, especially when considered in reference to the now 
extinguished jealousies of the Upper and Lower Canadians, 
and the possibility, though not the probability, of a war Avith 
the United States. In the last supposed case, Toronto would 
be at the mercy of a coup de main ; and if Canada were inde- 
pendent and the nucleus of another and self-supporting system 
of allied commonwealths, in case of a purely American war, 
in which Great Britain had no concern, Montreal, since the 
abandonment of Rouse's Point and a large portion of Maine 
by the short-sighted stipulations of the Ashburton Treaty,, 
would scarcely be defensible against an invading force from 
the United States. Quebec, it is true, with its strong natural 
position, rendered stronger by art, might bid defiance to any 
force dispatched against it ; but fortresses do not make the 
most eligible capitals, and for this reason Quebec is objection- 
able. No such arguments apply against Ottawa ; and though 
the selection made by her majesty, at the request of the Cana- 
dians themselves, whose jealousies and predilections in favor 
of Montreal, Toronto, Quebec, Kingston, and other places, 
rendered their agreement impossible, was somewhat ungra- 
ciously and ungenerously repudiated for a time, the Canadian 
Parliament has at length acquiesced, and the question may 
now be considered decided. Ottawa will be the future cap- 
ital of Canada, toAvn lots will rise in value, and the holders 
of real property in and around it will grow rich in conse- 
quence. 

The original name of Ottawa was Bytown, derived from 
Colonel By, an officer of engineers, who led to its foundation 

R 



386 LIFE AND LIBEETY IN AMERICA. 

in 182G by the construction of the famous Eideau Canal, 
which connects the Ottawa River with Lake Ontario. It 
was found during the last war with the United States, that 
the transport of ordnance and other military stores up the St. 
Lawrence was rendered both difficult and hazardous, in con- 
sequence of the attacks made upon the vessels from the Amer- 
ican side, and a bill was introduced into the Imperial Parlia- 
ment for the construction of a canal to obviate this danger 
and inconvenience. The project was warmly supported for 
strategical reasons by the Duke of Wellington ; and having 
passed both houses, and received the royal assent. Colonel By, 
the original projector, was intrusted with the execution of the 
works, and the canal was opened in 1832. Its cost was up- 
ward of £800,000 sterling. 

The locks of the canal are of the most substantial masonry, 
and so many men were employed for some years in complet- 
ing the works that the little village of Bytown grew in im- 
portance, until by degrees it began to arrogate to itself the 
name of a town, and afterward of a city. In the year 1854 
its name was changed to OttaAva, and its present population, 
including that of its suburb of New Edinburgh, is estimated 
at about 10,000. The Rideau Canal divides it into the Up- 
per and Lower Town. Its principal commerce is in timber, 
both sawn and square, the staple of Canada, for the transport 
of which from the rivers of the interior it possesses unrivaled 
natural advantages in the Ottawa and the almost equally im- 
portant streams, the Gatineau and the Rideau. The sites 
for the new Parliament House and other public buildings 
have been already selected ; and if the edifices themselves are 
worthy of the imposing situation on which it is proposed to 
place them, Ottawa will become one of the most picturesque 
cities in America. 

Ottawa is sometimes called the " City of the Woods," but 
a more appropriate name would be the "City of the Tor- 
rents ;" for it may truly be said that no city in the world, not 
even the straggling village, dignified with the name of a city, 
that has been laid out on the American side of Niagara, con- 
tains within it, or near it, such splendid waterfalls as those 



SHOOTING THE RAPIDS. 887 

of which Ottawa can boast. The two falls of the Eideau into 
the Ottawa at the commencement of the suburb of Ncav Edin- 
burgh would be of themselves objects of great beauty and 
gi'andeur were they not eclipsed by the Chaudierc, or Falls 
of the Ottawa, a cataract that possesses many features of 
sublimity that not even the great Niagara itself can surpass. 
To stand on the rock below the sawmill, looking down the 
boiling and foaming flood toward the Suspension Bridge that 
spans the fearful abyss, is to behold a scene of greater turbu- 
lence, if not of greater majesty, than Niagara can show with 
all its Avorld of waters. The river does not leap precipitously 
over a sudden impediment as at Niagara, but rushes down a 
long inclined plane, intersected by ledges of rock, Avith a fury 
that turns dizzy the brain of those who gaze too long and 
earnestly upon the spectacle, and that no power of poet's or 
painter's genius can describe. No painting can do justice to 
a waterfall, and words, though capable of more than the pen- 
cil and the brush, are but feeble to portray, except in the old, 
stale set terms that have been well-nigh worn out in the serv- 
ice of enthusiasm, the ineffable magnificence of such mighty 
foi'ces, obeying forever and ever the simple law of gravitation. 
If Niagara may claim to be the first and noblest cataract in 
the world, the Chaudiere at Ottawa may claim to rank as 
second. And if ever the day comes Avhen American travel 
shall be as fashionable and attractive as travel in Europe, no 
one will cross the Atlantic without paying a pilgrimage to 
the multitudinous waterfalls of Canada, or think his journey 
complete unless he has visited both Niagara and the Ottawa. 



CHAPTER XLIIT. 

SHOOTING THE KAPIDS. 



Not having time to visit Kingston, which, although it was 
once the capital of Upper Canada, has dropped somehow or 
other out of the line of march, and become a place almost as 
unprogressive and stagnant as its namesake in England, I was 
advised to make the town of Prescott my point of departure 



388 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

for a new and more beautiful trip on the St. Lawrence than 
I had yet undertaken. The scenery of the river between Pres- 
cott and Montreal was declared to be grander and more varied 
than in any other part of its course ; for within the distance of 
120 miles between the two were to be seen not only a portion 
of the fairy-like panorama of the Thousand Isles, which com- 
mence at Kingston, where the St. LaAvrence, issuing from Lake 
Ontario, first assumes its name, but the long series of rapids, 
the " shooting" of which is a feat which must be accomplished 
by eveiy traveler in Canada who desires to sow the seeds of 
the " pleasures of memory." Upon this advice I shaped my 
course. Bidding farewell to my kind and hospitable name- 
sakes in the city of Ottawa, I took my seat in the car, and 
the train soon brought me to the little, dull, insignificant town 
of Prescott, where, lodged like the great Villiers, Duke of 
Buckingham, " in the worst inn's worst room," I was com- 
pelled to await the arrival of the steamer bound from Toronto 
to Montreal. Let me qualify the expression. My temporary 
abode was in reality the "best inn's best room;" but when 
best and worst are equally intolerable, or not to be distin- 
guished the one from the other by a hair's breadth, it does not 
greatly signify Avhich epithet be used. 

As there had been a storm on the lake during two days 
previous, the steamer was beyond the advertised time, though 
hourly expected, and I had to amuse myself as best I could 
in an inchoate village in which there was nothing whatever to 
be seen or learned, and not even a newspaper to read. It is 
true that during the Canadian rebellion Prescott was invaded 
from the American shore by a too adventurous Pole, named 
Von Schulze, at the head of a small band of filibusters, and 
that he was captured by tlie British commanding officer, and 
hanged forthwith. But there was nothing in this historical 
incident to invest Prescott with additional attraction. Eight 
opposite, upon the southern bank of the St. Lawrence, and in 
hourly communication with Prescott by a steam ferry-boat, 
stood Ogdensburg, in the State of New York, whence Von 
Schulze's expedition started. As it was apparently a large 
and populous city, I very much longed to visit it, if but to pass 



SHOOTING THE EAPIDS. 889 

the time. But it was unsafe to run tlie risk of an hour's ab- 
sence, for the Toronto boat might arrive at any moment, and 
would not delay at the wharf at Prescott above five minutes. 
As things turned out, I might have safely gone to Ogdensburg, 
for hour after hour passed away, noon succeeded to morning, 
evening to noon, and night to evening, lengthening themselves 
out till they were as attenuated as my Aveariness, and still 
there was no tidings of the tardy steamer. At midnight, worn 
out, sleepy, and, if the truth must be told, somewhat out of 
patience with the place, I lay down in my clothes upon tlie 
bed with strict injunctions to a messenger whom I had kept 
all day in my pay to arouse me the moment the steamer ap- 
peared in sight. At three in the morning, sixteen hours after 
her time, the lights of the approaching vessel came within 
view of my scout. I was duly aroused, according to agree- 
ment, with two other expectant passengers, the one from Hart- 
ford, in Connecticut, and the other from Chicago. Guided 
through the dark and muddy streets by a man Avith a lantern, 
we had the mortification to arrive at the wharf just three min- 
utes too late, the steamer having landed a passenger in hot 
haste, and started off again without waiting to ascertain wheth- 
er there were any others to come on board. We saw the lights 
of 'her stern-cabins shining brightly through the gloom of the 
night ; and the man of Connecticut, who was very anxious to 
get on, having vented his wrath and his disgust in a volley of 
imprecations in the choicest Yankee slang, we retraced our 
steps, in the Avorst possible humor, to the inn, and held a coun- 
cil of war around the stove. The Yankee ordered a glass of 
" whisky-skin," very hot, which restored him to something 
like equanimity, and the agent of the boat, avIio Avas responsi- 
ble for not having given the captain the proper signal to stop, 
having, as in duty bound, thrown the entire blame of our dis- 
appointment upon the absent skipper, we Avent quietly to bed, 
to aAvait the next regular boat, the Kingston, due at eight in 
the morning. Much to our satisfaction, the Kingston Avas punc- 
tual to her time. The weather was magnificent, and Ave start- 
ed for Montreal, none the worse for our disappointment in 
body or mind, and but little lighter in pocket ; for if the hotel 



390 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

in which Ave had wasted the day was bad, we had but little 
to pay, and might have exclaimed with the Englishman who 
traveled for the first time in a railway car from Now York to 
Philadelphia, " that we never had so large an amount of dis- 
comfort for so small an amount of money." 

The " Thousand Isles," through which the St. Lawrence 
winds its way in beautiful intricacy from Lake Ontario to the 
Kapids of the Long Sault, are said to number in reality con- 
siderably upward of a thousand, if not of fifteen hundred; and 
though, in embarking at Prescott, we may have missed two 
thirds of them, we saw sufficient to be enabled to judge of 
their variety and loveliness. Some of them were fringed with 
trees to the river's bank ; others were smooth, flat, and grassy 
as a bowling-green ; some were rocky, bare, and small as a 
dining-table ; while others were of fifty or a hundred acres in 
extent, and presented hill and dale, wood and coppice, meadow 
and pasture to our view, as the steamer shot rapidly by, some- 
times in a narrow but deep channel, scarcely wider than our 
deck, and at others through a reach of the river as broad as 
the Thames at Waterloo Bridge. The man from Connecticut, 
one of that class of Job's comforters who will never allow a 
sti-anger to enjoy the loveliness of any natural scene present 
and palpable before him without reminding him that he has 
left unvisited something still finer which he might and ought 
to have seen, emphatically made me understand that all this 
beauty was as nothing to the scenery between Kingston and 
Prescott ; that I had been misdirected and misinformed ; that 
I had not seen any portion of the real " Thousand Isles ;" and 
that the little '* sci-aps" of rock and island amid which we 
were passing, and which to my eyes appeared quite fairy-like 
in their beauty and multitudinous in their number, were mere 
" humbugs" and "false pretenders." This personage, hard as 
he tried, was not able to mar my enjoyment by his companion- 
ship ; and even he became excited as we approached Dicken- 
son's Landing, shortly below which commences the Great Eapid 
of the Long Sault, or " Long Leap," pronounced Long Soo by 
the Americans and the English, Havin"- taken in one and 
disembarked another passengei*, we prepared to " shoot" the 



SHOOTING THE RAPIDS. 891 

rapid, and all became bustle and excitement on board. The 
order was given to let off steam, and at a sudden bend of the 
river, where the banks seemed as if they had contracted to 
deepen the channel, the white crests of the waves, foaming 
like the breakers on a i-ocky coast, became visible, and the 
roar of the descending waters was heard, dull, heavy, and 
monotonous, but grand as a requiem sounded from a cathe- 
dral. Most of the ladies, and more than one of the rougher 
sex, whose nerves were unable to bear the excitement of the 
scene, retired into their state-rooms or the saloon ; and those 
who had resolved to stay upon deck provided themselves with 
plaids and wi'appers as a protection against any sudden dash 
of the waters, should our fast-driving keel strike against a bil- 
low at an angle too acute. We kept to the northern or Cana- 
dian side of the rapid, which, in the days ere steam-vessels 
plowed these stormy waters, and when the only craft that 
ventured down were the light canoes of the Indians, was sup- 
posed to be more dangerous than the other, and called " La 
Kapide des Perdus," or the Rapid of the Lost. We were 
speedily in the midst of great round eddies twenty or thirty 
feet in diameter, and, ere we had time to admire them, shot 
down fast as a railway express from London to Brighton, or 
faster if that be possible, in the bubbling, raging, foaming, 
thundering, and maddening waters, our prow casting up clouds 
of spray tliat drenched the deck, and formed rainbows ere they 
fell. At intervals there came some tremendous " thud" on 
the side of the steamer, causing her to stagger and shiver 
through all her framework, like a living creature mortally 
wounded, and the spray, mounting as high as the top of the 
funnel, fell like a torrent upon the deck. Then a moment of 
comparative calm succeeded, to be followed by another thud 
and another shower. In the space of five hundred yards, 
w^hich we shot through in from two to three minutes, but 
which one lady, very much alarmed and excited, declared had 
occupied us half an hour, the St. Lawrence falls no less than 
thirty feet, a declivity more than sufficient to account for this 
magnificent perturbation and " hell of waters." The whole 
scene, heightened by the novelty, the excitement, and the dan- 



392 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

ger, impressed itself upon my mind as the third greatest mar- 
vel that I had seen in America, and only next to the Kapids 
and Falls of Niagara and the Chaudiere at Ottawa. Now 
that the feat is accomplished almost every day by large steam- 
ers, the Canadians and Americans look upon it as a matter of 
course, and do not seem to be really aware of the danger of 
the achievement and the grandeur of the scene. If he were a 
bold man who ate the fii'St oyster, heroic and of Titanic en- 
ergy and audacity was the captain or pilot of the fii-st steam- 
vessel that ever braved the frantic whirlpools of the Long 
Sault, and came out triumphantly from among them. 

AVe were again in smooth water in much less time than it 
takes to tell the story, and in about three quarters of an hour 
stopped for a few minutes at Cornwall, the frontier town of 
Canada West, and Avere again in sight of the land of the Hahi- 
tans. Steaming on once more through a succession of small 
islands — and the St. Lawrence most certainly contains ten 
times, if not twenty or fifty times, as many islands as any 
other river known to travelers or geographers — -sve emerged 
into the broad, quiet Lake St. Francis, also studded with isl- 
ands. This lake, or enlargement of the river, is about fifty 
miles in length, but of a breadth scarcely sufficient to justify 
its appellation of lake in preference to that of river. At its 
eastern exti'emity is the little town of Cotcau du Lne, where 
commences a new series of rapids, all of which we had to 
" shoot," and the first of which is at a short distance beyond 
the town. It is one of the rapidest of the rapids ; and our 
steamer shot it like an arrow in two minutes, and launched 
itself into a deep, and comparatively placid but strong cur- 
rent, where we scarcely required the aid of steam to carry us 
along at the rate of twelve miles an hour. Becoming biases 
with rapids, as people will do with almost every thing in this 
world except sleep, we passed in succession the Cascades and 
the Cedars, the latter with its little church and tin spire, built 
upon the shore of the foaming current, suggesting in a new 
form Byron's beautiful though well-worn simile of " love 
watching madness." To these succeeded the Eapid of Beau- 
haraais, after shooting which with the accustomed di-enching, 



SHOOTING THE RAPIDS. 893 

though with less excitement among the strangers than had 
been exhibited at the Long Sault, we glided into another ex- 
pansion of the river, known as the Lake St, Louis, at the ex- 
tremity of which the dark brown and turbid Ottawa mingles 
with the blue and clear St. Lawrence. Here we came in sight 
of the large island of Montreal, which interposes itself between 
the uniting but not commingling rivei's, the one of which rises 
far in the farthest West, and the other runs through a coun- 
try scarcely half explored, except by forlorn remnants of the 
Indians, and the scouts, trappers, and fur-traders of the Hud- 
son's Bay Company. The Ottawa, seen in the distance from 
Lake St. Louis, looks broad as an estuary widening into a sea, 
but it speedily narrows and sweeps along the northern shoi'e 
of Montx-eal island to effect a second junction with the St. 
Lawrence, of which the deeper and more vigorous current 
rushes impetuously to the south, down a steep incline to La- 
chine, the last of the magnificent series of the rapids. Lachine 
— so called by an early navigator, who imagined, as Hendrik 
Hudson did a little farther south, that he had found the west- 
ern passage to China — is nine miles above the city of Montreal, 
and the roar of the rapids may be heard in the still midnight 
in the streets of Montreal, when the wind is from the west, 
almost as distinctly as if the torrent were in the heart of the 
town. 

The Kapids of Lachine, though they do not run a course so 
lengthened as the Long Sault, and are not in themselves grand- 
er or more picturesque, are far more perilous to navigate. 
They are jagged, and dotted both with sunken and visible 
rocks, scattered in most perplexing confusion, lengthways or 
athwart, at every possible and apparently impossible angle, 
amid the rushing waters. Any one beholding the turmoil of 
the flood, and the innumerable Scyllas on the one side, bal- 
anced by as many Charybdises on the other, would be quite 
justified — if no previous adventurer had made the perilous 
journey — in pronouncing the attempt to " shoot" them, either 
in large vessel or small skiff, an act beyond foolhardiness — a 
reckless tempting of Fate, if not a proof of positive insanity. 
But the feat was continually accomplished by the Indians of 

R2 



39-i LIFE AND LIBEKTY IN AMERICA. 

Caughiiawaga, opposite to Lacliine, at the head of the rapids, 
in their frail canoes, long before the white man and his steam- 
vessels had penetrated to the shores of the St. Lawrence ; and 
the danger and the means of surmounting it became alike fa- 
miliar to them. Whether by treaty, and as a recompense for 
the surrender of their lands, or whether entirely on account 
of their superior knowledge of the intricacies of the rapids, or 
whether for both reasons in combination, was not made clear 
to my comprehension, either by the individuals, or the books 
that I consulted on the point ; but for some of these reasons, 
if not for all, the Indians of Caughnawaga — a remnant of the 
Iroquois — enjoy the legal monopoly of the pilotage. Letting 
off steam at Caughnawaga, we lay to, opposite the village, for 
a few minutes, to allow the pilot to come on board. The 
squaws and other idlei's turned out in considerable numbers to 
the shore to witness our passage, and I saw enough of the vil- 
lage, Avhich is inhabited entirely by the Indians, to excite a 
desire to visit it, if only to investigate the kind of life they lead 
in their state of semi-barbarism, and what progress they have 
made in the arts of civilization. It was evident, even from 
the shore, that they had not been entirely neglected by the 
clergy, for a handsome Roman Catholic church, with the glit- 
tering tin spire, universal in Lower Canada, proved that their 
spiritual welfare had been deemed a matter of importance. 
The zeal of the Roman Catholics for the extension of their 
faith in Canada, and the wealth they have scraped together 
for the purpose, should make Protestants blush for their own 
lukewarmness. The immediate successors of Jacques Cartier, 
liy introducing not only the feudal tenures, but the ecclesias- 
tical zeal of Old France into the New France which they 
founded, proved that they knew how to colonize upon system. 
They left nothing to hazard, and, wherever they went, the 
Pope and the Church went with them ; an example which 
the Church of England seems never to have had the zeal or 
the wisdom to follow, except lately in a small corner of New 
Zealand. I was not able to carry into effect my design of 
visiting the Iroquois in their village, but learned that their 
advances toward civilization have not extended much beyond 



SHOOTING THE EAPIDS. 395 

costume and the love of "fire-water;" that the gipsy ele- 
ment is sti-ong in them, and that continuous hard labor is con- 
sidered fitter for squaws than for men. 

Our pilot started from shore in a canoe, and, on reaching 
the " Kingston," sprang nimbly upon deck — an indubitable 
Red Man, but without paint and feathers — in the European 
costume of his vocation. Pie had a keen black eye and a quick 
hand, and seemed to be fully aware of the importance of the 
task he had undertaken, and of the necessity that lay upon 
him to have every faculty of mind and body on the alert, to 
carry our vessel in safety down this frantic staix'case of seventy 
feet in a run of about three miles, intersected and encumbered 
by many rocks, and with a current rushing, in some places, 
at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles an hour. Our trusty 
pilot was equal to his work. He was all nerve — and nerves 
— and at one point more especially of our mad career, when 
we seemed to be running right upon a point of rock project- 
ing about two feet above the surface of the torrent, to be in- 
evitably dashed to pieces, a sudden turn of his wrist altered 
our course instantaneously, and sent us down a long reach, 
amid showers of dashing spray, at reckless speed, like a rail- 
way train, full tilt upon another heap of rocks, that seemed 
absolutely to bar the passage. A delay of one second in al- 
tering our course would have been certain perdition ; but the 
mind of the Red Ma«, quick as electricity, communicated its 
impulse to his hand, and his hand, with the same rapidity, to 
the wheel, and away we were again, before we could draw 
breath, safe in deep waters, dancing along impetuously, but 
safely, into new dangers, to be as splendidly and triumphantly 
surmounted. The trees upon either side seemed to pass out 
of our field of vision as instantaneously as the phantasma- 
goria seen in a magic lantern ; and when we darted at last 
into the blue water, and saw far behind us the snowy wreaths 
and feathery crests of the mountainous waves through which 
our ship had whizzed like an arrow, the propriety of the ex- 
pression, "shooting the rapids," needed no justification but 
this scene and its remembrance. It should be stated that, al- 
though many canoes and boats have been lost in the rapids, 



396 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

no accident has ever yet happened to a steam-vessel in navi- 
gating them. 

We speedily arrived at what is called the " Tail of the Rap- 
ids," a strong but equable current ; after which, having fallen 
two hundred and seventy feet between the Long Sault and 
Montreal, the St. Lawrence runs to the sea without farther 
obstruction, as calmly as our English Thames. Ere sunset 
the city of Montreal, and the solid piers and masoniy of the 
Tubular Bridge, were in sight, and before dark I was safe 
again, amid the kindly society and cheerful hospitalities of 
Rosemount. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

EMIGRATION. 

Montreal, May, 1858. 
The population of Canada in 1858 is considerably greater 
than that to which the ancient and illustrious kingdom of 
Scotland had attained in the first year of the present century, 
long ere its name and fame in literature, science, art, and 
arras, had become famous over the civilized world. It is 
about as gi-eat as that of England was Avhen William the 
Conqueror dispossessed Harold of his throne, and little in- 
ferior to that of Norman England when Henry V, gained the 
victory at Agincourt, and sowed the seeds of that animosity 
between Englishmen and Frenchmen which have unfortunate- 
ly germinated since that day into results which philanthropists 
may deplore, but of Avhich British and French statesmen are 
bound to take cognizance, if they would govern their country- 
men either in war or in peace. It is not because its popula- 
tion is so small, but because its territory is so great, and its 
resources so little known, that Canada is considered in its in- 
fancy, and because it is conterminous with a republic so much 
older, more developed, and more populous than itself. Stretch- 
ing westward from the Gulf of St.Lawrence along the northern 
margin of the great chain of lakes, Canada — even if no addi- 
tional territories in the fertile rigions of the Red River and 



EMIGEATIOISr. 897 

the Saskatchewan be included hereafter within its boundaries 
— has room enougli for a population as great as that of France 
or Germany, and only requires men and time to rank among 
the greatest powers of the earth. Its water communication 
alone would point it out as a country destined in no very 
distant Hereafter to play a great part in the drama of civiliza- 
tion. An ordinarily intelligent study of the map is sufficient 
to show that the line of the southern Canadian frontier, along 
the shores of Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan, and Superior, 
will become the highway of the trade and tx-avel of Europe to 
the Pacific Ocean, if what is called the " lay" of the country 
be more favorable for the development of railway communica- 
tion than the regions of Central North America to the south 
of the lakes. And this it appears to be from the reports of all 
the scientific men who, either in official or non-official capaci- 
ties, have explored the land. A great railway will inevitably 
unite the Atlantic and the Pacific Ocean through British ter- 
ritory, although it is possible that a southern line may also be 
constructed across the centre of the United States. But the 
Canadian and British line will have the advantage, for the 
solid and substantial reasons that the engineering difficulties 
are not nearly so many or so costly ; that the country lies on 
a much lower level, and that there is no high plateau of ut- 
terly barren ground, twelve hundred miles in extent, to be 
traversed in the centre of the line. Between the Canadas, 
the Red River settlements, and the great districts of the Sas- 
katchewan, and the Fraser Eiver, British Columbia, and Van- 
couver, there will be but the territory at the head of Lake 
Superior, which will not ultimately repay, by its own traffic, 
the expenses of its construction ; while the Atlantic and Pa- 
cific line, through the centre of the United States, across the 
Rocky Mountains, will have to traverse a bleak and howling 
wilderness, never to be settled at any time, because quite in- 
capable of cultivation, and extending for more than twelve 
hundred miles. 

When the outlying British provinces of Nova Scotia, New 
Brunswick, and Cape Breton are connected by rail with each 
other and with the Canadas, and when the Grand Trunk 



398 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Railway shall be linked with othei* grand trunk lines as great 
and useful as itself, British America will become strong enough 
to rival the United States both in commerce and in politics. 
There has lately been considerable talk, if not agitation, in 
Canada in favor of a federation of the North American Col- 
onies, which, in consequence of the want of railway communi- 
cation, are very little knoAvn to each other. But such a fed- 
eration is not likely to take place while they remain depend- 
encies of the British crown. Their ignorance of each other 
leads to jealousies sufficiently great to render their union a 
difficult achievement, if left to themselves to effect; and as 
the mother country has nothing to gain, but might possibly 
have something to lose by encouraging the idea, there is no 
likelihood that it will make much progress or meet with ade- 
quate encouragement on either side of the Atlantic. If, from 
any circumstances in their own or British history, these noble 
colonies should hereafter declare themselves independent, their 
federation for mutual protection would cither precede that 
event, or immediately follow it as a matter of course. But, 
under existing circumstances, the best federation which they 
can establish is the federation of I'ailways and the union of 
interests, of which commerce is the best and readiest instru- 
ment. 

The passion or instinct of loyalty is so strong in Canada, 
that even the recoil of the great rebellion of 1839 has in- 
creased the fervor of the sentiment instead of diminishing it, 
as it might have done. Both Upper and LoAver Canada once 
possessed a kind of aristocracy composed of what are called 
the " U. E. Loyalists," or " United Empire Loyalists ;" per- 
sons who disapproved of the war waged against the mother 
country by Washington ; who, while they deplored the ill- 
judged proceedings of King George III. and his ministers, held 
that nothing could justify rebellion, and fled across the St. 
Lawrence to avoid staining their consciences with an opposi- 
tion which they stigmatized as treason. Loyalty a Toutrance 
was their motto, as it was that of the Cavaliers of England in 
the days of Oliver Cromwell. This feeling survives in their 
descendants. The very rebels pardoned by tlie British gov- 



EMIGRATION. 899 

ernment after tlie events of 1839 have become as truly loyal 
and as fervent in the expression of their attachment to the 
crown of Great Britain as the most zealous living represent- 
atives of the U. E. Loyalists of old. The change in the pop- 
ular feeling is perfectly natural. Throughout the whole of 
those unhappy disputes, which had well-nigh cost Great Brit- 
ain her most valuable colony, the government at home, sup- 
ported by the people, acted with enlightened and far-seeing 
generosity, forbore to exasperate grievances by supercilious- 
ness or neglect on the one side, or by vindictiveness on the 
other, admitted to the fullest extent the right of the Cana- 
dians to self-government, and by a series of truly liberal meas- 
ures prepared the way for that democratic freedom which the 
Canadians enjoy, and which could not by any possibility be 
theirs if their institutions were identified with those of their 
brethren on the other side of the Lakes, or if they had, like 
them, to elect a President every four years. Canada enjoys a 
far greater amount of liberty than any nation on the globe, 
unless Great Britain be an exception ; and if it be, the Cana- 
dians have far less to pay for their freedom than their brethren 
in the Old Country. The national debt of Great Britain 
touches them not. They are defended by British soldiers and 
British ships of war without cost. The standard of England, 
which prevents all nations from insulting them, costs them 
nothing to uplift. They have but to pay their own way, and 
to be happy in an allegiance nominal in its burden, but real in 
the protection which it insures. The Canadians are fully im- 
pressed with the value of these advantages, and are not likely 
to imperil them either by a self-sacrificing annexation to the 
United States, or by a costly independence of Great Britain, 
which would entail upon them all the expenses of a nation 
that had to provide for its own security against the world, and 
especially against its nearest neighbor. 

As already observed, the first want of Upper Canada — for 
Lower Canada is well peopled — is men ; men who will push 
out into the wilderness, fell and clear the forest, found vil- 
lages, towns, and cities, and run the race that is run by their 
kindred in the more popular emigration fields of the "Great 



400 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

West" of the United States. Men of the right sort are, and 
will continue to be, the wants of Canada, and of the colonies 
planted, or to be planted, between the present western limits 
and the shores of the Pacific Ocean. 

But who are the men of the right sort? Let no reader of 
these pages be deceived. It is but one class of men Avhose 
presence will be acceptable to the Canadians or advantageous 
to themselves. Loiterei's about cities — fellows who herd in 
the back slums, and think the life of the backwoodsman too 
hard for their dainty fingers, or for their notions of what is 
right and proper, should remain in Europe, and not presume, 
with their sickly education, to venture into the fi-ee, fresh air 
and rough work of the wilderness. 

Canada requires, and will require, a large stream of immi- 
gration ; and yet immigrants are hourly arriving who are not 
wanted, and Montreal, Toronto, Hamilton, and Quebec swarm 
with young and middle-aged men, who find it quite as difficult 
to "get on" as they ever could have done in Great Britain. 
Who, then, are the classes that should emigrate to Canada? 
This is a question that should be well and thoroughly debated 
by all who, not having elbow-room at home, imagine that they 
must, of necessity, have greater scope in America. Those 
who ought not to emigrate may be designated in a few words 
as those who expect to live by their brains — by trade, com- 
merce, or professions of any kind. Neither clerks nor shop- 
men, nor men with ready pens or readier tongues, should try 
their fortunes in Canada. Such men are always to be had in 
young communities in gi-eater numbers than young communi- 
ties require, and are useless in a country where rough work is 
to be done, and where one good blacksmith, stone-mason, or 
plowman is worth half a dozen clerks and a score of barristens. 
The strong men who inherit nothing from their forefathers but 
their brawny limbs and their good health, and who, by the 
employment of their physical strength, with more or less of 
skill and industry, are able to derive their subsistence from 
the land — these are the people wanted. The classes who, by 
the exercise either of more than an average amount of talent, 
or the enjoyment of more than an average amount of social 



EMIGRATION. 401 

advantages derived from education, desire to live pleasantly, 
sliould stay at home. Their existence in this old is far more 
comfortable than it can be in a new country, which desires 
them not, and has no adequate field for the exercise of their 
abilities, except in rare instances, which are speedily taken 
advantage of by people on the spot. 

It is the agriculturist who is the most urgently required ; 
the class that in the British Isles is the most hardly used, 
whatever Arcadian poets and Belgravian novelists may urge 
to the contrary. Traditionally and poetically, or telescopic- 
ally viewed, we are told that in England the cottages of this 
class peep out from the verdure of the land ; that the roses 
blossom at their doors ; that the ivy and the honeysuckle clam- 
ber over ^heir walls ; that the swallow builds in their thatch ; 
that the lark and the nightingale, the blackbird and the thrush, 
make music for them ; that the honest house-dog Avatchcs at 
their gate ; and that their children sport beneath the lofty 
elms, or make garlands in the fields of the buttei--cups and 
daisies. They are said to be the wealth and the boast of the 
nation. Out of their ranks, as we are told, is recruited the vig- 
or of the generations. They are a bold and independent race. 
Honesty is their stay. Health is their portion. A sufficiency 
is their reward. All this is very fine, but, unluckily, it is not 
true. Actually or microscopically considered, what are the 
peasantry of England ? Enter one of their cottages and look 
around, and all the glory and poetry disappear. The peasant 
is found to be a man of many sorrows. He toils for an insuf- 
ficiency. He has not wherewithal to cover himself in comfort 
from the inclemency of the Aveather. His cottage is ill fur- 
nished and dirty, and has no convenient separation of apart- 
ments for the decencies of a family. A dung-heap and a cess- 
pool fester at his door. His intellectual life is as degraded as 
his physical. If he reads at all, which is very doubtful, he 
has read the Bible, but whether with understanding or with- 
out, it is hard to say. He goes to church because his fathers 
went before him, and because men better dressed than himself 
have set him the example, and urged upon him the duty of 
going. He is told when he gets there that he is a misei'able 



402 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

wretch ; that, by the inscrutable decrees of Providence, the 
many must ever be the hewers of wood and the drawers of 
water, and that he is born into that state, and must live in it. 
He is warned to respect those above him, and to be contented 
with his lot. If he be a true man, he learns, after his own 
humble and dejected fashion, that there may be some chance 
for him in heaven if not on earth. If he be not a true man, 
if he have no spiritual life in him, if he have no hope for the 
future, he becomes reckless and brutal, seeking for animal en- 
joyment wherever he can find it, and seizing eagerly the coarse 
pleasures and excitements of the passing day, lest death and 
annihilation should come upon him before he has enjoyed any 
thing at the expense of any body. His wife is prematurely 
old with bearing many children and many woes. She labors 
hard and has no rest. Her children toil before their bones have 
acquired consistency ; and the combined labor of the family, 
provided they could procure work for the Avhole year, might 
maintain them in coarse food indiiferently well, and supply 
them indifFei'ently well with coarse raiment. But they can 
not procure work all the year round, and the moderate suffi- 
ciency of six months so dearly bought is painfully beaten and 
hammered out into an insufficiency for twelve. 

When decrepitude or old age — and the first often precedes 
the second — comes upon the peasant and his wife, they have 
no resource but the poor rate. They are a broken-spirited 
and utterly worn-down couple, and become a burden to the 
community. If a young, vigorous man of this class wished 
to possess for himself a small portion of his mother earth, he 
must expatriate himself. At home, though no serf de jure, he 
is a serf de facto. The land is so valuable as to shut utterly 
against him the slightest chance of his ever obtaining one yard 
of it to call his own. There are many thousands of such peo- 
ple in England, to whom the Canadas Avould oflfer a career of 
industry, usefulness, and prosperity. Let them depart, and 
benefit themselves, the country which they quit, and that to 
which they go. And not only the Englishman of this class, 
but the Scotchman and the Irishman Avill be welcome to Can- 
ada, if they can fell the forest, plow the land, shoe a horse or 



EMIGRATION. 403 

a man, or do any kind of hard-hand "work, such as is required 
in the wilderness. As much trash has been spoken of the 
Scottish as of the English peasant. It is said that, though he 
live in a cold and moist, it is by no means an unhealthy cli- 
mate. We are told that the grandeur and the glories of na- 
ture surround him ; that the everlasting hills rear their mag- 
nificent peaks on his horizon ; that fresh-water lakes of ex- 
treme beauty are imbedded among his hills, and that salt-water 
lochs wind far into the countiy from the sea, presenting not 
only the sublimities and splendor of scenery to his eyes, but 
wealth for his wants, if he will but labor in search of it. We 
are told, moreover, that, although the hills are bleak and bare, 
the glens and straths are green and capable of cultivation. 
Even if the country be deficient in coal and wood, nature is 
so bountiful that the peasant need not perish from the inclem- 
ency of the climate, inasmuch as great tracts of moorland are 
spread on every side, affording him an inexhaustible supply of 
fuel. But how does the so-called fortunate peasant live ? What 
has civilization done for him ? What has he done for himself? 
The answer should be, that he has done nothing for himself; 
that he is but half civilized ; that he is worse off than his fore- 
fathers ; that he lives in a miserable wigwam built of unshape- 
ly stones gathered from the debris of the mountains, or lying 
loose on the uncultivated soil ; that the interstices between 
them are rudely plastered with mud ; that he has very often 
no windows to his hut, and that, if there be a window, a piece 
of paper commonly serves the purpose of a pane of glass. 
When there is a chimney — a somewhat rare case — an old tub 
without top or bottom, stuck amid the rotten heather of the 
roof, answers for a chimney-pot. The door is low, and he has 
to stoop before he can enter it. He gathers his fuel from the 
peat moss, a privilege accorded to him for the labor of a cer- 
tain number of days upon the farm of which the moorland 
forms a portion. The smoke from this peat-fire fills his wig- 
wam and exiides from the door. The floor is of earth, and 
damp ; and the cow which he keeps shares the shelter of his 
own roof. He has a little patch of ground, reclaimed perhaps 
from the moorland, for which he pays a considerable rent in 



404: LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

labor, if not in money, and on this patch of ground he grows 
potatoes. He has little or no skill in agriculture beyond the 
skill necessary to plant his potatoes, but does as he is bid in a 
clumsy way when he works for other people. Oatmeal por- 
ridge, on which his forefathers grew strong, is a rare luxury 
with him. The easily-raised and less nutritious potato is 
much cheaper, and supplies its place. If his landlord, or his 
landlord's factor, will permit him, he marries upon his pota- 
toes. If the landlord does not wish that he should marry, for 
fear of an increase of the population, inconvenient always to 
landlords who have not the skill, the enterprise, or the capital 
to employ them, he either dispenses with the ceremonial part 
of the business, or emigrates to Glasgow or some other great 
town, and trusts to Providence to live somehoiv and some- 
tvhere. 

If he remains on his potato-patch, and marries by consent, 
he has a large family ; for, by a provision of nature, now be- 
ginning to be understood by political economists, each pair of 
living beings threatened with extinction by habitual insuffi- 
ciency of nourishment becomes prolific in proportion to the 
imminency of the danger.* He is idle and dirty in his habits, 
and his children are like him. If he can now and then get a 
little oatmeal-cake and a herring in addition to his potatoes, 
a little milk for his children, a pinch of snufF now and then, 
and much fiery whisky for himself, he envies no man in exist- 
ence, except, perhaps, the laird and the minister. All around 
his wigwam are large tracts of country capable of cultivation, 
if capable people were allowed to undertake the task of clear- 
ing, draining, and manui'ing it, and if the owners of these 
tracts had the energy and the capital to exercise the duties of 
proprietorship. Undrained and unfilled, these lands, if not 
valuable for raising corn and men, are admirable for raising 
sheep and preserving grouse. There is little or no expendi- 
ture of capital necessary for this purpose on the part of land- 
lords. The hill-sides afford excellent pasturage ; and as sheep 
and black cattle can be herded in such a country at a small 
expanse of men and money, the land is let out in large farms 
* See Mr. Doubleday's Theory. 



EMIGRATION. 405 

for this purpose, and at very heavy rentals. Additional 
rentals are procured for the right of grouse-shooting. None 
of the mutton, none of the beef, none of the grouse or other 
game, finds its way to the larder of the peasant, unless he 
steals it — which he sometimes does, taking his chance of the 
penalty. When peasants grow too numerous for a sheep and 
cattle feeding country, for the confines of a deer-forest, or for 
the due cultivation of that more valuable two-legged animal, 
the grouse, the less valuable two-legged animal, man, is "clear- 
ed out." The superabundant and useless people are warned 
to depart within a certain period. If they neglect the warn- 
ing, their wigwams are pulled down over their heads, and 
they are left to the moorland and the hill-side, to enjoy an 
equality of shelter with the moor-fowl or the sheep. If any 
of these people have been provident or penurious enough to 
scrape a few pounds together, or if they have any remote 
cousins settled in the New World who have lent them a little 
money for the purpose, they emigrate to the United States, or 
perhaps to Australia — any where where a man has a likeli- 
hood of being considei-ed a man, and of living his life without 
oppression. These are the men that ought to go to Canada ; 
these are the men that Canada requires ; and these are the 
men who, if they go there, will increase and multiply, and re- 
plenish the earth. 

The Irish Celtic peasant, when he is at home, leads much 
the same kind of life, except that he is not quite so closely el- 
bowed as the Highlander is by the grouse and the deer. He 
is not the patient ass that browses upon the thistle, and takes 
insults from all comers. Though he, too, lives in a wigwam, 
and shares it with a pig, the priest comforts him when no one 
else will take the trouble. When a war breaks out among 
the nations, this class of men, partly from the misery of their 
daily fare and the wretchedness of their daily attire, partly 
from the ignorance which accompanies extreme poverty, and 
partly from a barbarian love of finery, press or are pressed 
into the legions of battle, and die in scarlet coats and feath- 
ered caps for the supposed good of their country. If war does 
not require him,' and he has neither energy to emigrate nor 



406 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

friends to supply him with the means of paying his passage 
across the AtUmtic, he comes over to Enghmcl in the harvest- 
ing-time, and gains a few pounds to help him through the 
winter. Some of his good friends, who wish to try experi- 
ments at his expense, settle him upon the coast, and lend him 
a boat and buy him nets, and tell him to fish in the sea, and 
not allow the Danes and Norwegians to come down hundi'eds 
of miles, and take away the wealth that the great deep affords. 
No doubt the man ought to fish, but he does not. The change 
is disagreeable to the Celt. He does not like continuous hard 
work. A potato-diet has weakened his energies. He has no 
fancy for the sea. He loves the old ways. Could he be al- 
lowed to fish in the rivers, he would be willing enough ; but 
fresh-water fish are the property of the landlord, reserved for 
aristocratic, and not plebeian sport and profit. Salt sea fish' 
ing is another matter. There is no landlord right upon the 
ocean. The great deep is free. There is no possibility of de- 
riving any rents from the billows ; but, free as it is, the peas- 
ant from the intei'ior can make no use of it. He not only de- 
tests sea work, but has no skill in the management of boats, 
or nets. He has, in fact, no liking for or knowledge of tht 
business in any shape or degree. The strange result is that. 
while on one side of him there is a poor barren soil, with 
owners who ask a large rent, the Celtic Irishman would rath- 
er pay that rent and draw a small subsistence for himself in 
potatoes out of it than betake himself to the abundant sea on 
the other side, which has no owners, for which there is no 
rent to pay, and from which he might draw not subsistence 
merely, but wealth for himself and for his country. Though 
we bring the peasant to the sea-shore, we can not make him 
fish. He prefers to fold his arms in his potato-ground, and 
trusts in Providence for the better days which never come to 
those who do not make them. His children swarm half naked 
-about him, and when the potatoes fail, get a miserable sub- 
sistence by gathering limpets from the rocks, or plucking sea- 
weed to boil into a jelly. 

While such men as these are young, the British possessions 
in America could absorb any number of them — to dig and 



HOME AGAIN. 407 

delve, to cut down the forest, make canals and railways, and 
do the work for which they are eminently qualified. In short, 
it is the peasantry of the British Isles who are wanted in 
Canada, not clerks, shopmen, and penmen ; and, until the 
peasantry go in larger numbers than they do at present, Can- 
ada, like the daughter of the horse-leech, will continue to cry, 
" Give ! give !" and will remain but half or a quarter devel- 
oped, even in its oldest regions. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

HOME AGAIN. 



It might seem ungracious and ungrateful, after having been 
received in the United States and in Canada, at every town 
and city in which I sojourned, with a degree of kindness as 
great as it was unexpected, to conclude this record of my tour 
without saying one word in acknowledgment of the popular 
favor that was showered upon me. Without parading names, 
detailing private conversations, or indulging in personal gos- 
sip, I may be permitted, in a form somewhat less evanescent 
than a speech after dinner, that perishes with the newspaper 
of the following morning, even if it find its way to such tran- 
sient notoriety, to avow my grateful sense of the hospitality 
of which I was the object, and of the good-will toward the 
Old Country expressed toward me, as happening to recall its 
memories to the minds of those with whom I was brought 
into personal and public intercourse. The following quota- 
tion from the Toronto Globe will, better than any words of my 
own, tell all that is necessary to be told of the kindness of 
which I was the object, and which I should be worse than 
ungrateful were I ever to forget : 

" Chaei.es Mackay in Canada. — The reception given by 
the Canadians to this distinguished poet has been cordial in 
the extreme. No English traveler or literary man who has 
hitherto visited this country has been welcomed with a tithe 
of the enthusiasm which has greeted the popular songster in 



408 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

every city in Canada in which he has set foot. At Monti*eal, 
after his lecture in the Bonsccour Market Hall on " Poetry 
and Song," which was attended by upAvard of IGOO persons, 
he was entertained at a public supper at the Donegana Hotel. 
The band of the 73d regiment, under the leadership of JMi-. 
Prince, was in attendance during the evening, and honored 
the poet -with a serenade, appropriately playing some of his 
own melodies. At Toronto, where he has lectured under the 
auspices of the Mechanics' Institute, he has been honored by 
the atteni\ance of the largest audiences ever known to have 
gathered in the city to listen to a lecture. The St. Lawrence 
Hall was densely crowded on both occasions ; many persons 
were unable to obtain even standing room. At Hamilton, 
where he lectured twice, the same enthusiasm prevailed, and 
at the close of the second lecture he was invited to a public 
entertainment at the Anglo-American Hotel, which was at- 
tended by many of the notabilities and leading merchants of 
the city. At London, Avhere the corporation granted the 
gratuitous use of the City Hall for the occasion, an audience 
of 1000 persons was present, and, as in other cities, a public 
supper was hastily organized, at which the healths Avent round 
until the small hours of the morn, and libations were drunk 
full of loyalty toward the Old Country and of attachment to 
the new. At Quebec, after the lecture, there was a public 
supper ; and at Ottawa the poet was publicly serenaded in 
tlie beautiful grounds of the Hon. Mrs. Mackay, of Kideau 
Hall. Mr. Mackay will, no doubt, take home the most favor- 
able impressions of Canada. He expresses himself deeply 
sensible of the kindness shown to him by its warm-hearted 
people. Mr. Mackay was entertained at supper last night at 
the Rossin House, and he leaves us this morning en route for 
England." 

Leaving Canada with feelings of regret that I had not seen 
more of it, I took the rail at Montreal for Boston, and engaged 
my passage home in the steamship Europa, Captain Leitch, 
advertised to sail on the 19th of May. But I was not des- 
tined to leave America without receiving a farther proof of 



HOME AGAiisr. 409 

kindness and esteem, and this time from people whose names 
and labors are alike the property and pride of all who speak 
the English language, and of which the following short record 
appeared in the Boston newspapers of the 20th of May : 

"Mr. Charles Mackay. — This gentleman sailed in the 
steamer Europa yesterday morning from this city. Quite a 
crowd of his personal friends assembled to take farewells. 
He carries with him the best wishes of hosts of admirers, 
who will be glad to see him again on this side the Atlantic. 
A parting dinner was given to him on Tuesday evening, at 
which were present some of the most distinguished literati of 
the country. Among the sentiments drunk with the heartiest 
enthusiasm was the health of Alfred Tennyson, proposed by 
Mr. Longfellow — a most graceful and genial recognition of 
the genius of the author of "In Memoriam" by the author of 
"Evangeline." The company on the occasion included Pro- 
fessors Longfellow, Holmes, Agassiz, and Lowell ; his Excel- 
lency N. P. Banks (Governor of Massachusetts); Josiah Quin- 
cy, Esq. ; Josiah Quincy, Esq., jun. ; W. H. Prescott, the his- 
torian ; Dr. Howe, of the Blind Asylum ; Messrs. Ticknor and 
Fields, the eminent publishers, and many others well known 
to fame. Mr. J. G. Whittier, Theodore Parker, and Mr. R. 
"W. Emerson were unavoidably absent." 

The speeches made on the occasion were not reported. In 
lieu of a speech, Oliver Wendell Holmes, known to fame in 
both hemispheres as the " Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," 
and author of some of the tenderest as well as some of tlie 
wittiest poems that American literature has produced, read 
the following amid much applause : 

TO CHARLES MACKAY, 

ON HIS DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. 

Brave singer of the coming time, 

Sweet minstrel of the joyous present, 
Crowned with the noblest wreath of rhyme, 

The holly-leaf of Ayrshire's peasant, 

s 



410 LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 

Good-by ! goocl-by ! Our hearts and hands, 
Our lips in honest Saxon phrases, 

Cry, God be with him till he stands 
His feet amid his English daisies. 

'Tis here we part. For other eyes 

The busy deck, the fluttering streamer, 
The dripping arms that plunge and rise, 

The waves in foam, the ship in tremor, 
The kerchiefs waving from the pier, 

The cloudy pillar gliding o'er him, 
The deep blue desert, lone and drear, 

With heaven above and home before him. 

His home ! The Western giant smiles. 

And twills the spotty globe to find it ; 
"This little speck, the British Isles? 

'Tis but a freckle, never mind it !" 
He laughs, and all his pi-airies roll, 

Each gurgling cataract roars and chuckles, 
And ridges, stretched from pole to pole, 

Heave till they shake their iron knuckles. 

Then Honor, with his front austere, 

Turned on the sneer a frown defiant. 
And Freedom leaning on lier spear. 

Laughed louder than the laughing giant : 
"Our islet is a world," she said, 

"Where glory with its dust lias blended. 
And Britain keeps her noble dead 

Till earth, and seas, and skies are tended !" 

Beneath each swinging forest bough 

Some arm as stout in death reposes ; 
From wave-washed foot to heaven-kissed brow, 

Her valor's life-blood runs in roses. 
Nay, let our ocean-bosomed West 

Write, smiling, in her florid pages, 
" One half her soil has walked the rest 

In poets, heroes, martyrs, sages!" 

Hugged in the clinging billows' clasp. 

From seaweed fringe to mountain heather, 
The British oak, with rooted grasp. 

Her slender handful holds together. 
With cliifs of white and bowers of green. 

And ocean narrowing to caress her. 
And hills and threaded streams between — 

Our little Mother Isle, God bless her! 



HOME AGAIN. 411 

In earth's broad temple, where we stand, 

Fanned by the eastern gales that brought us, 
We hold the missal in our hand, 

Bright with the lines our Mother taught us. 
Where'er its blazoned page betrays 

The glistening lirfks of gilded fetters, 
Behold, the half-turned leaf displays 

Her rubric stained in crimson letters. 

Enough. To speed a parting friend, 

'Tis vain alike to speak and listen ; 
Yet stay — these feeble accents blend 

With rays of light from eyes that glisten. 
Good-by ! once more. And kindly tell, 

In words of peace, the Young World's story ; 
And say, besides, we love too well 

Our Mother's soil — our Father's glorj'. 

Among other effusions called forth by the occasion was 

the following : 

You've seen us Yankees, Mr. Mackay, 
The white, the red, the brown, the blackcy ; 
The white, they say, who knows no color 
But that of the almighty dollar ; 
The red, who roves as free as nature, 
Could give play to the gallant creature ; 
The black, who laughs, amid his fetters, 
More heart-free than his free-born betters ; 
And the wan hybrid, half his mother 
And half his father, yet a brother ; 
When telling in the little island 
Of sights seen here in flood or dry land. 
Say, white, red, brown, black, short, or tall, 
You found some good among them all. 

In conclusion, and for the benefit of Americans, and espe- 
cially of critics, who are too apt to be oversensitive upon the 
Cosas Americanas, I need but say that time h:is strengthened 
every good impression which I formed both of the people and 
of the country, and weakened every unfavorable one ; that, 
if I have spoken of slavery and one or two other subjects in a 
manner at which some may take offense, I have spoken con- 
scientiously, and that I could not do my own heart the in- 
justice to witness slavery without raising my voice against 
it — not to blame the slaveholders, but to condole with them 
on the burden of their inheritance, and to pray for the day 



412 



LIFE AND LIBERTY IN AMERICA. 



when the evil thing may be either entirely removed, or so di- 
minished by natural, aided by legislative causes, as to lead to 
the hope that one or two generations at the farthest may wit- 
ness its extinction. No Englishman can travel in the United 
States without seeing on every side, and at each step of his 
progress, the proof of the indomitable energy of the people ; 
and (if he will not judge too rashly from first appearances or 
from random expressions) of the pride which they feel in their 
Anglo-Saxon descent, in their I'elationship to England, and of 
the noble inheritance of British literature, which is theirs as 
well as ours. Should the day ever arrive — which may Heav- 
en in its mercy avert — that the " Old Country" should be im- 
periled by the coalitions of despotism, or by the subjection of 
Continental Europe to a great and overpowering military 
barbarism. Great Britain would have but to say the word, 
and an alliance with the United States, offensive and defens- 
ive, would stir the heart of the whole American people, and 
bring to the gi-een shores of the "Mother Isle" — of which 
Professor Holmes has sung so sweetly — a greater army of 
volunteers than England and America have at the present 
moment ships enough to convey across the ocean. 

The voyage home occupied twelve days. The weather 
was propitious all the way. We saw but one iceberg — a 
very small one — at a safe distance ; and the trip altogether 
was as pleasant as fair skies, a clever captain (both in the En- 
glish and in the American sense), and a joyous company could 
make it. Our run, according to the daily estimate made at 
noon — an operation always looked forward to with much in- 
terest on board ship — was as follows : 

Miles. 

May 26 290 

«'' 27 280 

" 28 305 

" 29 312 

" 30 295 

Total 2847 

On the twelfth and last day — within sight of home and 
the shores of Ireland — the passengers kept no reckoning. 



May 19, 20 

" 21 


Miles. 

232 

195 


(( 2'> 


180 


" 23 


2-tO 


" 24 


250 


ci 25 


2G8 



HOME AGAIN. 413 

On arriving once more in England, I may mention the 
pleasant and novel sensation I experienced at riding over the 
excellent pavement of the streets of Liverpool, so superior to 
the bad pavements and worse roads of the United States, and 
the delight I felt in beholding once more the garden-like beau- 
ty and verdui-e of the landscape. The haw^thorn and the wild 
chestnut, the lilac and the acacia, were in the full flush of 
their early bloom ; and in rolling up to London at the rate of 
forty miles an hour, I came to the conclusion that not even 
the magnolia groves of the sunny South, or the exuberant 
loveliness of the northern landscape in America, were equal 
to the sylvan beauty and fair blue sky of England. And if, 
during my absence, I had learned to love America, I had also 
learned to love my own country better than before ; or, if 
this were not possible, to render to myself better and more 
cogent reasons for doing so than I had before crossing the 
Atlantic. 



THE END. 



f Every Number of Harper's Magazine contains from 20 to 50 pages — and 
from one third to one half more reading — than any other in the country. 



HARPER'S MAGAZINE. 

The Publishers believe that the Seventeen Volumes of Haepek's 
Magazine novr issued contain a larger amount of valuable and at- 
tractive reading than will be found in any other periodical of the 
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Dickens's "Bleak House" and "Little Dorrit," Thackeray's 
"Newcomes" aud "Virginians," have successively appeared in the 
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LOCH, and other prominent English writers. 

The larger portion of the Magazine has, however, been devoted 
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HARPER'S WEEKLY. 

A JOURNAL OF CIVILIZATION. 

^ iTirst-claBS JUuatratelr Jamtlji Neto0papir. 

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